Hordes of Hungarian Horntails
by GrandeVanillaSkimLatte
Summary: Hermione never thought Charlie Weasley would be the one to help her deal with her nightmares. CharlieHermione.
1. Hordes of Hungarian Horntails

Hordes of Hungarian Horntails

Hermione woke up gasping; sweat trickled down her spine and made her thin top cling uncomfortably to her skin. She flung the scratchy blanket to the floor and padded barefoot into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water.

She wished this was a one-time thing, something she could put to the back of her mind like so many nightmares of times gone by but she couldn't. This particular nightmare was persistent and never failed to wake her in the night. She gave a slight shudder as images of a black haired witch leering above her flitted across her mind.

Finding a glass in the unfamiliar cupboards she poured cool water from the filter on the bench and gulped it down in two swallows. The best thing she could do now was try and get back to sleep, even though from experience she knew it would be impossible but it was that or switching on a light and reading for several hours.

She looked at the couch that was her makeshift bed and realised she would be getting no more sleep tonight. Rinsing her glass and leaving it by the sink she grabbed the scratchy blanket on her way past the couch and took it with her outside to the front porch. This was their last night in Romania before returning to England.

It was the middle of summer and the nights were not much cooler than the days, the blanket only served to keep the bugs from devouring her flesh. She lit the low torch above her head and picked up her discarded book from earlier in the evening. Charlie Weasley had surprised her by showing off his impressive library, most of the titles were about the care and feeding of Dragons but the fact the he read at all had taken her off guard.

Opening the book on the mating habits of Hungarian Horntails she felt a smile form on her face at the thought of Charlie Weasley. She had never given Ron's older brother much thought before, other than the fact that he worked a dangerous job she knew very little about him. She hadn't known what to expect when Ginny and Ron had invited her and Harry to spend the better part of the summer with him and she still wasn't sure what to make of it all.

Charlie Weasley had become, and she had no idea how it had happened, the man of her better dreams. Over the past three weeks she had found herself thinking less about her nightmares and more about him, it was disconcerting to say the least.

Ron had noticed her infatuation with the older man and in his not so subtle way had told her to stay away from him. They had argued until they were blue in the face; until Ron had become so angry with her that he had packed his bags and left. It was a breaking up of sorts, they weren't exactly together but he still felt he had some possessive claim over her. Ron wanted what she was not prepared to give, he thought she just needed time but what she really needed was space.

Looking toward the distant enclosures she saw a bright flare of light, not an unusual occurrence when dealing with fire breathing dragons. They were almost beautiful from a distance but she wouldn't like to be in a cage with them, _yes_ she had fought Voldemort, _yes_ she had been attacked by Death Eaters but Dragons still scared the shit out of her.

"They have completely different personalities when they think they aren't being observed," a gruff voice said from the doorway. She nearly jumped out of her skin and turned to find a sleep tousled Charlie still looking in the direction of the enclosure. He wore only a pair of loose sweats, and she had a hard time keeping her eyes from following the trail of course ginger hair down his navel.

"D-do they?" she stuttered, forcing herself to look at his face. He finally turned to look down at her and grinned.

"Sorry if I startled you," he said. She was about to say that it was ok when the next words out of his mouth made her blush and look away embarrassed.

"Nightmares again?" he asked, stooping down to pick up the book she hadn't even noticed had slipped her grip and handing it back to her. His fingers brushed hers and she drew her hand back as if it had burned.

"How …" she began

"I'm a light sleeper; I heard you crying out. I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude," he said, running his hands through his messy hair. She noticed a faint blush creep up his neck and realised he was embarrassed to have been caught out.

"It's ok. The nightmares are no secret, just a fun left over from the war," she tried to joke but he didn't laugh, she didn't blame him.

"Ron told me what happened to you, is that what you dream about?" he asked softly, squeezing next to her on the low bench. She could feel his body heat through the thin blanket and had a hard time concentrating on his words.

Nodding her head she replied "I was tortured not because I had done anything wrong but because I was born, that's not something you forget easily,"

His intense blue gaze was too much to handle as she said this and she looked back to the enclosure where another smoky burst of light emerged. He didn't say anything for a long minute, just stared at her. She began to feel uncomfortable under his close scrutiny and drew the blanket closer to her chest.

"How often?" he asked suddenly. His question bought her gaze back to his.

"What?" she asked.

"How often do you have the nightmares?" he asked seeming genuinely concerned. Nobody had ever tried to delve into her dreams, they just asked if it was the same one and gave her a pat on the shoulder. Charlie Weasley was the first person to ever show more than a fleeting interest in her inner turmoil and not just because he had been woken up and wanted to know how to get a good night sleep while she was living in his house.

"Every night," she answered honestly. He seemed to process her words, his gaze probing as if making up some decision. He surprised her again by holding out his hand in invitation. When she just stared at it stupidly he moved forward and clasped it in his own, chuckling all the while. Dragging her to her feet, the blanket long forgotten he led her across the dirt ground toward the flames.

All that she could think about on the short journey was how his large hand fit around hers, dwarfing it. The calloused palms sent tingles down her spine and she hoped her hands weren't too sweaty or that he wouldn't notice.

He slowed their pace near the closest fence, high barbed wire protected observers from not only the fire breathing Dragons but also falling into the massive pits they resided in. The pits were like large open caves, the perfect habitat for the massive scaled creatures.

"I used to have nightmares," Charlie said, his gaze attached to dragon bellow him. Hermione watched quietly as he composed his words, another burst of flames from below lit up his features to a golden hue and she found she couldn't have looked away if a horde of Hungarian Horntails had come crashing past them.

"It was my first week here and I was barely out of Hogwarts. I was young and arrogant – thought I could take on the world," he began with a grin and Hermione wasn't surprised by his admission, his reputation at Hogwarts as the Quidditch star was still going strong.

"I was left in charge of a young Swedish Short Snout – easy enough to handle if you know what you are doing," he grinned.

"But you didn't," Hermione pointed out, he couldn't have known after just one week.

"No I didn't," he agreed, with a sigh, letting go of her hand and turning his back to her. That's when she saw it, the angry looking scars that stretch from shoulder to below his waist band. She stifled a gasp with her hands and Charlie turned back to look at her finally.

"I slipped on a rock, the sudden movement startled her and she charged. I only just managed to turn my face away," he indicated toward the shimmering blue Dragon who had finally noticed them. He pulled one of her hands from her face and held it tight to his chest, as if just talking about it was enough to relive it all again.

"I was rushed to the infirmary, Mum and Dad arrived that night and convinced me to return to the Burrow. It was when I was fully recovered a few days later that the nightmares started – horrible dreams of bright flames and blue scales, I would wake up screaming every night," he confessed.

"What did you do?" Hermione whispered, wanting to reach out and caress his face, to hug him close to her and make the bad memories go away.

"I came back, I faced my fears," he replied.

"That's not so easy for me," she answered, "I can't just march up to Azkaban and demand to see Bellatrix. She would probably laugh in my face like she did when she ..." Hermione couldn't finish her sentence. Charlie was back to watching her with those intense blue eyes again.

"No you can't. I am not saying everyone deals with trauma the same way because they don't but I just wanted you to understand that I know what it's like to be afraid to close your eyes at night knowing you can't suppress the memories in your sleep," His gaze bore into hers, letting her know he really did understand.

"Two years is a long time Hermione," he whispered, drawing him into his chest. She rested her cheek against his beating heart and sniffed, trying hard not to cry. They stood like that for a long while, his arms resting heavily against the curve of her waist, her hands linked against his back not ever wanting to let go.

"Charlie?" she asked, lifting her head to examine his face again, he was beautiful this close up.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

"Thank you," she whispered, leaning up on her toes to kiss his cheek softly but he turned his head at the same time and captured her lips with his. It was all rather unhurried, probably the most natural thing in the world for Hermione to be standing next to a Dragon pit kissing Charlie Weasley.

His hands slowly moved down her lower back to follow the swell of her hips before grasping her backside and drawing her closer to him. She moved her hands to his shoulders and kissed him back with more force; he seemed to respond eagerly to the challenge and his tongue found its way into her mouth, caressing her and drawing a low throaty moan in response.

It was her moan that seemed to break the crumbling walls around them and Charlie dipped down to sweep her feet out from under her, still making love to her mouth as he made his way back to the house. Hermione shut her eyes tight, afraid that this was all a dream and when she opened her eyes he would disappear but he was too real and warm beneath her to be some kind of figment of her overactive imagination.

He pushed through the swinging fly wire door and strode to his bedroom, bypassing the lumpy couch and barely glancing at the spare bedrooms' closed door where Harry and Ginny were hopefully still asleep.

Charlie let her legs loose and let her slide down his body until her feet hit the floor, sucking her lower lip into his mouth like a ripe cherry before teasing the corners of her mouth.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered in her ear as her reached around them to undo the draw string of her pyjama pants. She shook her head no and stepped out of the restricting fabric. He grinned at her and backed her up until her knees hit the corner of the bed and she sank down onto the soft covers.

He was still grinning when he reached for the tie of his own pants, knowing she was watching his movements and slowly dropping the cover revealing his arousal to her. Hermione gnawed on her lower lip, she had only ever been with Viktor a handful of times but Viktor was certainly no Charlie.

She scooted further back on the bed and let him crawl after her; she grabbed the hem of her shirt on the way and quickly discarded it. His grin turned into a teasing leer as he suddenly pounced and pinned her beneath him. She felt a giggle bubble in the back of her throat when he teasingly attacked her throat with kisses and licks – Hermione had never giggled in her life, it was an odd sensation.

His hands trailed down her body, teasing and arousing her further and his mouth began to follow the same path; when he touched her shoulders he kissed them, when he teased the bend in her elbow she received several licks in return. When his calloused fingertips flicked and pinched her taught nipples his mouth returned the caress causing her to moan and her fingers to clench around his hair.

"I've been dreaming about you like this, in my bed, under me ever since you walked through my front door," he whispered as he made his way down her quivering stomach, "I didn't want to be attracted to my little brothers ex-girlfriend but I couldn't help it, you're beautiful Hermione," he said reaching the tiny triangle of fabric that protected her core.

Hermione sighed and gripped his head tighter, urging him on. He hooked his fingers under the elastic and tugged it down her legs, his mouth caressing her hip bone the entire time. She began to squirm as long dormant sensations came to life and cried out in delight when his fingers came into contact with her intimate folds.

He continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear as he bought her to the edge several times only to let her drop back panting on the bed, her own hands took to exploring his muscular plains, drawing moans from the Dragon keeper when she did something that was to his liking.

By the time he finally pushed her back and spread her thighs they were both breathing heavily in need, having drawn out the foreplay maybe just a little too long. Her nails scraped along his scarred back as he entered in one strong thrust; her eyes closing in bliss as a whole new set of fires were aroused deep within her.

Charlie stared down at the beautiful with beneath him, amazed that she returned his feeling, amazed that she was here with him at all as he began to thrust slowly and deeply within her. He felt her legs wrap around his lower back, her ankles crossing together to keep them in place as he increased the pace.

She began chanting his name with each thrust, sweat rolling off both their bodies in the warm night. The bed springs groaning and his soft whispers the only other sounds in the room as he got his fill of her, afraid that this would be his one and only time with her. She began grinding her hips into his, signalling she wanted to go faster and he quickly complied, crying out as her inner muscles gave a faint pulse around him.

He knew she was close to release and kissed a path down to her straining nipples, taking one sweet bud in his mouth and rolling his tongue around it; the pulse became stronger until her whole body tensed beneath him and a sharp gasp broke the gentle hush of the night. She seemed to tumble into the abyss, bucking and writhing against him as her body orgasmed; the sight before him was enough for him to find his own release, shouting out as he came just as violently.

He collapsed against her, quickly rolling to the side to clasp her shuddering body to his, stroking her hair as she came down from her high. As their breathing returned to normal Charlie realised she had fallen into a deep dreamless sleep, he couldn't help but smile.

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It was several hours later and they were in the shower washing the nights grime from each others bodies, general basking in new found lust when Charlie broached the subject he had been too chicken to talk about the night before.

"Hermione?" he asked, slowly rubbing the soapy wash cloth down her back, watching the suds being washed along her curves.

"Yes?" she purred, obviously enjoying the treatment.

"A few of the guys and I have been talking and I have been meaning to ask you … I mean you can say no it was just an idea …" he began.

"What?" she asked turning around to face him, her hands resting lightly against his chest.

"We have been looking for someone to take over our research department, and well we think you would be perfect for the job," he said in one quick breath.

"You mean stay here and work with you?" she asked slowly, a slow grin forming.

"Well yeah, if you want," he frowned not wanting to pressure her into anything.

"I'd love to," she breathed, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to kiss her.

They could tell Harry and Ginny later.

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	2. Comings and Goings

_A/N – as you can see I have decided to continue with this tale. Charlie Weasley is just one o__f those great characters that's just waiting to be explored, I hope you enjoy this next helping._

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Comings and Goings

Hermione pulled back from the kiss that was rapidly turning from something sweet to something much more passionate, she would have continued too if the water wasn't starting to run cold. Charlie groaned when she dropped from her toes to stand a head shorter than him.

"Are you sure?" he asked tightening his hold on her waist and grinning down at her, they could both feel his arousal pressed between them.

"Sure I'm sure," she grinned back, not wanting to explain that now that her relationship with Ron was well and truly over there was nothing that had a definite hold over her in England. She had no job to return to and her home had been at the Burrow which suddenly seemed like last place she wished to be in the world right now. Infact Charlie's bed seemed like a great place to be if they didn't have to deal with her best friend and his sister.

Sighing she pulled out of his arms and stepped out of the shower stall; the all white bathroom sparkled in the morning sun. Wrapping a towel around herself she wiped the steam from the mirror and smiled when she saw Charlie trying to stealthily creep up behind her.

Pretending to ignore him she started applying toothpaste to her brush when she felt his arms creep around her again.

"I'm really happy you decided to stay," he whispered in her ear, gently nuzzling her with his nose. She sighed as she ran water over the brush when he continued to caress her; the think towels the only thing between them.

She began vigorously brushing her teeth as his hands crept down her thighs to start inching her towel up. Knowing that if she let him go any further they wouldn't be leaving the bathroom any time soon she quickly spat the toothpaste out and rinsed her mouth. Spinning out of his arms she flitted to the door and grinned back at him as she slipped out into the lounge room.

She blushed a deep crimson when she found Ginny and Harry leaning against the kitchen bench drinking coffee. Harry raised an eyebrow at her while Ginny looked away, taking a deep breath Hermione realised they may not be as happy for her as she would have liked. Not wanting to have a confrontation while standing in a towel she slipped into Charlie's bedroom where her pyjamas lay strewn across his bedroom floor along with the sheets and his own sweat pants.

She stepped into the pink pants and was just tugging the tank top over her head when Ginny poked her head around the bedroom door before letting herself in.

"Can we talk?" she asked, about to sit down on the unmade bed before thinking better of it, she instead opted to lean against the window sill.

"Sure," Hermione said, her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach. She tried to busy herself by scorgifying the bed clothes and then making the whole thing by muggle means – neither of them were fooled by the casual attitude.

"What happened last night?" the red head asked, pursing her lips in a way that Hermione was sure she had seen her mother do plenty of times.

"You know what happened Gin, so why ask?" Hermione panted as she struggled with the fitted sheet. Ginny hopped down from her perch and came to the other side of the bed tugging with her.

"Because you are my best friend and he is my brother. It's just so … wrong," she gave a shudder.

"There is nothing wrong about it," Hermione defended finally managing to tug her corner onto the mattress with a triumphant huff. She stood with her hands on her hips breathing heavily for a moment, watching her friend struggle with the other stubborn corner.

"Yes there is. You can't have a one night stand with my brother,"

"I did though," Hermione pointed out trying to keep a serious expression. Ginny finally conquered the corner and stood up, surprising Hermione with the intensity of her glare, the small smile that had tugged at the corners of her mouth drooped instantly.

"And that's why it's wrong. You_ don't_ have one night stands with your best friends brother," The force of the younger girl's voice almost made her take a step back.

"You can't tell me who I can and I can't sleep with," Hermione defended not liking the sudden twinge of guilt she felt; she didn't realise how upset Ginny would get over something like this.

"I can't believe you Hermione, I thought you were my friend," Ginny suddenly yelled.

"I am your friend Ginny. What's happening between Charlie and I reflects nothing on our friendship; just because we are together …"

"What! You're together?" she shrieked cutting her off and running a frustrated hand through her red hair, tugging at it.

"Well … you see, um he has kind of asked me to stay …" but once again her explanation was cut off.

"Oh this is unbelievable. I thought you were smart Hermione but this is the stupidest thing you have ever done," she growled.

"Taking a job offer is stupid now is it? Doing something for myself for once is stupid?" Hermione asked, the angry tension in the room rubbing off on her.

"Oh is that what he is calling it, a job offer? I would never have believed you would fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book," Ginny sneered.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort back when a familiar voice cut across the room making them both turn to the door.

"I think that's enough Ginny," Charlie said. Despite the situation Hermione's heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of the towel clad dragon keeper, his wand in one hand and a shaving brush laden with cream in the other – she noticed that half his face was lathered.

"Don't you start Charlie Weasley. You should have known better, how could you?" his younger sister yelled, jabbing one long fingernail at his naked chest.

"This is my home and I can do what I damn well please; it's not of your business. If Hermione wants to stay its her choice, if she wants to leave she can do that too,"

"You're not fooling me with your offer of work. I know you just want to keep her here as some sort of … _fuck buddy_," she said the last two words with such venom that Hermione flinched and Charlie turned a deep shade of red.

"Get out," he said quietly, pointing toward the door where Harry now stood silently watching the confrontation.

"What?" Ginny spluttered.

"Get out of my house," he repeated, extending each word slowly so she wouldn't miss a beat. Ginny looked in disbelief between the two before looking pleadingly at Harry who adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking like he would rather be outside in one of the Dragon enclosures.

"Perhaps it's time we got out of here Gin," he suggested softly, not looking any of them in the eye. Ginny's face flushed a deep red and she stormed from the bedroom, brushing violently passed her lover obviously feeling her betrayed her somehow.

"Harry…" she started to apologise but he stopped her.

"You deserve some happiness Hermione and if you have found it here in Romania then I am not going to be the one to stop you from staying. Ginny will come 'round … in time," he smiled before holding out his arms for a hug.

She returned the smile and ran into his arms for a hug, happy to have at least one persons support before releasing him so he could go and calm his girlfriend down enough to apparate without getting splinched.

Hermione turned back to Charlie needing his comfort more than anything, he held out his arms much like Harry had and she slid against him easily, resting her head on his toned chest much like she had the night before.

"If this is going to cause a rift between you all I don't want you to think you have to stay," he mumbled into her hair.

"I told you I am staying, you can't get rid of me that easily," she joked, giving him a squeeze and looking up at his grinning face.

They both heard the sound of people apparating from the next room and his smile turned into a leer, "Sooo, now we are alone …"

"Hmm?" she began inching her hands down his back, feeling his scars with her fingertips before hitting the edge of his towel. Before he was quite aware of what she was doing she had tugged the offending fabric free and was kissing him with abandon, shaving cream mingling between them.

He was in the process of tugging her shirt back over her head when something between then began to vibrate. Pulling back she saw he still had his wand in his hand and it was glowing red and pulsing with a life of its own; Charlie saw this too and cursed loudly.

"What is it?" she asked in alarm, stepping back and not bothering to cover her now naked chest.

"Problem with one of the Dragons; sorry love but I'm going to have to run," he said, already using the discarded towel to wipe his face clean and throwing on clean clothes.

She stood by the bed watching him hurry to get ready, slowly pulling her shirt back on when she realised they wouldn't be returning to bed this morning. He almost raced out the door without saying good bye when he realised his mistake and ran back to kiss her cheek.

"I'll miss you," he whispered before disappearing with a pop. She drew back inside and flopped on the bed with a sigh feeling more than a little exhausted from the tumultuous morning.

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	3. Honey, I'm Home

_A/N - Thankyou to JackMyles for being a wonderful Beta, she went aww with this I hope you do too._

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Honey, I'm Home

Hermione woke gasping and sweating once again, she lay horizontal on the bed and for a moment was so disoriented she couldn't tell up from down. The nightmare this time hadn't been as bad, infact it was more the surprise of having it so soon after her one the previous evening that had taken her off guard.

Lifting her head she looked at the clock on the bed side table and realised it had been nearly four and a half hours since Charlie had run out, from the sounds of the too quiet house he still hadn't returned.

Peeling her sticky body from the sheets she decided to have another shower; the midday sun was blaring down on the unsheltered house and she longed for the days where she had the luxury of air conditioning. She cast a cooling charm on her way to the bathroom but it was nothing like the constant frigid breeze she had grown up with in her muggle home.

Taking out her toiletries, she began to clear a space for herself in the bathroom cabinet, lovingly placing bottles of potions and other paraphernalia on the low shelf. Charlie had very few possessions in his small bungalow type home and it wasn't because he couldn't afford them it was because he had no use for them, unlike his brother Ron who spent all his hard earned money on Quidditch memorabilia.

Finally slipping her toothbrush into the holder beside his she stepped back and viewed her handy work, feeling much more settled in. She removed her clinging pyjamas and opened the shower door. It wasn't long before she was vigorously washing out the sweaty tangles that was her hair using several potions to smooth it out and make it just that little bit more manageable; sometimes she smiled just at the knowledge that she was a witch.

Having spent as much time in the shower as she could in her pursuit of wasting time until Charlie came home, she stepped out of the stall, dried her hair and changed into a pair of shorts and a loose fitting top to stay cool. Her stomach gave a loud grumble as she combed through her chestnut curls and she realised she hadn't had anything to eat all day.

Charlie lived for the most part on frozen meals his mother had packed lovingly and sent through the floo network once a month. The first time Hermione had opened his large standing freezer she had burst out laughing. The red head had shrugged and told her nothing beat a home cooked meal; she couldn't argue with him there – Mrs Weasley's kitchen was legend.

She found a serving of shepherd's pie and poked it with her wand to thaw it out and heat it up, her stomach churning as the smells of mashed potato and meat filled the kitchen. She was just sitting down to enjoy her meal when a knock at the front door made her drop her fork in surprise and looking stupidly toward the wooden entrance and didn't move until a second series of knocks sounded, more impatient than the last.

She got up and moved the short distance to open it, letting the blazing sunshine fill the small living area, she had to shade her eyes to see her visitors.

"Hey, how goes it Hermione?" greeted the ridiculously blonde teenager. He pushed past her as he sniffed food and made his way like a starved man to the table. His younger brother and sister followed at a more sedate pace, stepping into Charlies home.

Hermione smiled as the head Dragon Keepers' children made themselves at home. The eldest boy, Lucas, had already eaten a large portion of her pie and she wondered where the skinny fifteen year old put it. Adam, who was just a year younger than his brother, had his head stuck in the fridge and little Kathleen who insisted on following them everywhere, sat on the couch combing her dolls' hair and singing to herself.

Hermione had a soft spot for Kathleen who was born when the boys were nine and ten and happened to be the only girl at the Dragon reservation. Their mother had sadly passed away two years before of an incurable cancer and their father, a man Hermione had only met once in passing, had moved them all to Romania and was having them home schooled. The children had grown up just around the corner from her family home and it had all been rather coincidental.

"What can I do for you all?" she asked, pulling the fridge door from Adams swinging hand and taking out several more portions of the tasty meal.

"We wanted to know if it was true," said Lucas around a rather large portion of potato.

"What is?" she asked, tapping the frozen pies with her wand to heat them before transferring it all to plates.

"Is it true what Charlie said, are you really going to stay?" Adam gushed eagerly, pulling out a chair for Kathleen and a second one so her doll could sit close to the table too.

"Yes it's true, I will be staying here from now on." She tried not to moan as she finally got to eat.

"For how long?" he asked, tucking a napkin into the collar of his little sister's shirt before taking his own seat. Hermione tried not to smile at the sweet sight; she wished she had had older brothers to look after her like that.

"I don't know, I will be working on some research to do with the Dragon reservation from what Charlie has told me, so I guess I will be here until I am not needed any more," she said honestly, but she would certainly stay if Charlie still wanted her, job or not.

"Oh," was all the boy said, too absorbed in his food to interrogate her anymore. Hermione watched them all eat greedily. The children had taken to visiting her and Ginny while Ron and Harry had been out playing with Dragons.

She had come to realise that they had been a little starved for company over the past few years, their only real contact from their tutor who had trouble keeping them indoors for long. They had regaled her and Ginny with dramatic tales of daring and bravery that they got to see around the reservation and they had both been charmed.

Hermione was just polishing off the last few pieces of pie when booted footsteps sounded out the door. Her heart beat in time when she realised he was home, she subconsciously smoothed down her hair and checked to see she had dropped no food on herself.

"Honey, I'm home," he called smiling as he stepped through the door, stopping short when he saw he had visitors. The three of them were giggling like mad and Charlie put on a stern face that they saw right through.

"What are you laughing at?" he boomed, ruffling Kathleen's blonde hair as he walked around the table to kiss Hermione's cheek. She blushed as their audience broke out into another fit of giggles.

"Mr Langdon is looking for you, you better go and tell him where you are before he sends your father to come looking for you," he said gently reminding them they were supposed to be in class not running around; immediately the three of them jumped up from the table and raced for the door. Kathleen spun around on the porch and came racing back in for her doll barely waving goodbye on her way out again.

"That smells so good," Charlie groaned, flopping into the chair beside her. She took in his appearance and felt herself blush again – manly didn't do the man justice, what he was went beyond masculine. His brown pants were covered in a layer of dust and she noticed his leather boots weren't much better as he kicked them off under the table one by one; his once white shirt was open almost to his navel showing off a small dragon tattoo she had failed to notice the night before high up on his collarbone. She wanted nothing more than to lean across and trace those black lines with her tongue.

Looking up at his face she noticed a small lazy smirk spread across his features and she realised he had seen that look of desire in her eye.

"I'll fix you something to eat," she said quickly, standing from the table. She had barely stepped toward the freezer when his arms snaked around her and pulled her onto his lap.

"But …" she tried to get back up but his arms tightened, he nuzzled the hair from her neck, sniffing deeply as he did before placing small teasing kisses along her throat.

"The pie can wait," he murmured in her ear before taking the sensitive flesh gently between his teeth and tugging. His hands began to snake up, taking a breast in each hand and giving them a squeeze, the breath rushed from her lungs as she sagged back against him.

It seemed Charlie was more interesting in picking up where they left off that morning than eating; Hermione never thought she would have seen the day a Weasley man turned down pie.

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	4. The Difference Between Us

_A/N - Once again thanks to JackMyles for sorting through my ramblings - you rock! And to everyone else you rock just as hard if not more for your wonderful support with this story; I do not regret the decision to continue it._

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The Difference Between Us

Hermione turned in Charlie's arms and kissed him with such force and passion that the chair rocked back on to two legs. He spread his thighs to steady them as his hands travelled up and down her torso, his mouth taking possession of hers as if he couldn't get close enough to her. She entwined her fingers into his dusty hair and gasped against his mouth when she felt his calloused palms creep under her shirt.

The gasp seemed to be Charlie's undoing and he picked her up, much like he had the night before, and carried her into his bedroom. She placed kisses up and down the column of his neck, straining down as far as she could to reach his exposed chest and the tattoo so small she still couldn't believe she had missed it.

He growled appreciatively in the back of his throat as he placed her in the middle of the bed, pulling back only to remove his pants before falling back down on her. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close as his lips moulded and shaped her to his pleasure, his tongue plunging mercilessly.

She moaned and tugged at his shirt, becoming desperate for the feel of his body on hers, she undid the last few buttons and helped him shrug off the restricting fabric, revealing broad shoulders and moulded biceps.

She couldn't stop running hers hands across his hot flesh, it was like an addictive sensation and when he began to grind his hips into hers she knew she was lost. '_Where had Charlie Weasley been all her life?'_ she thought as he took his kisses down her neck, tugging her shirt up and off her body. Her shorts were subjected to similar treatment and soon she was as naked as he was.

They began to perspire in the afternoon heat; sliding against each other until eventually Hermione came out on top. She straddled the tall red head, only releasing his mouth to take a deep shuddering breath as he plunged into her. She let out a low groan at the feel of him embedded so deeply inside her.

His lips moved down the smooth skin of her neck, kissing and nipping in intervals while his lower body remained immobile. Hermione squirmed against him; driving her hips into his, silently urging them to move but the only response she got to her frustrated movements was a pained groan and an undying ache in her belly.

"Please," she finally begged. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching his focussed expression as he teased her breasts. He looked up from her, lips still suckling her as he raised an eyebrow and she finally knew – he wanted her to set the pace, to find her own release using his body.

Pushing up further he was forced to release her nipple as Hermione used his chest as leverage to sit up. She was once again struck by the difference between her first lover Viktor and the man beneath her.

Viktor was a rather selfish lover, he loved to take full possession of her, pinning her to the mattress on most occasions and taking her at his own leisure. He had been the one to call all of the shots. Charlie was his complete opposite, with him she felt like he was giving her a choice and that she was had an equal part in the relationship. It was not only a new experience for her it was also very empowering.

She studied Charlie for a moment, starting at the passionate expression in his blue eyes, the hair plastered to his forehead from sweat and finally his slightly swollen lips. He was beautiful, he was handsome and he was hers. It was a heady sensation and she used this knowledge to give her the courage to lift herself off him and start them on a rollercoaster ride.

It was awkward at first as she tried to find her rhythm, but it wasn't long until he was gripping her hips and guiding her into it. Her thighs shook and her breath came in short gasps, she felt light headed but nothing could have stopped her at that moment. Charlie began to return her thrusts, pushing up as she fell down and she felt the breath rush from her as her inner muscles began to clamp down around him.

Sensing this he pulled her down to him, planting his feet flat on the bed for leverage and pounding into her soft body helping them both to find release. Hermione's cries were so loud she would later be convinced someone outside had heard them but Charlie wasn't much better at silencing his joy.

She lay cradled between his legs, his arms wrapped firmly around her torso for a long time, lazily watching the sun dip low in the sky casting shadows across the stuffy room. Charlie stroked her hair, the rhythmic movement lulling her into an almost jelly like state. She could have stayed there forever if his stomach hadn't made its presence known.

They both looked down when the offending noise jolted them both out of their naturally induced high. Charlie grinned sheepishly while she suppressed her laughter at the ruined moment.

"How about I fix you some of that pie now?" she asked, reluctantly pulling out of his arms to go and fix him the meal she had promised hours earlier.

* * *

The following morning found Charlie in the kitchen cooking them bacon and eggs. Hermione was in the bathroom and had been there since she had managed to slip from his grasp after the third time he had pulled her back to bed. She had even gone so far as to lock the door so he couldn't sneak in to resume the previous nights activities.

He began to wonder just what she could have been doing in there for almost an hour, after all the most time consuming thing she had to do was wash her hair … _wasn't it?_

He pulled the slightly burnt toast from the toaster his father had been kind enough to give him on his last visit and began to plate up the hearty meal just as he heard a an almost growl like noise come from the direction of his bathroom.

Fed up with being locked out for so long he deposited the plates on the table and approached the door as stealthily as he could, wand drawn ready for just about anything.

Hermione made a frustrated noise at the back of her throat again and practically threw the straightening iron down on the bench. Her hair was being its natural stubborn self not to mention she was struggling to write a coherent plan for the day at the same time as attempting to apply a thin layer of makeup.

Her main issue was she kept loosing her train of thought. In fact, that train kept chugging out the bathroom door and straight toward the bedroom where her body was convinced it should be.

Her stomach growled as the smell of bacon wafted through the door and a slight change in temperature alerted her to company. She looked up at her foggy reflection and saw Charlie standing almost timidly in the doorway.

"Everything alright?" he asked as she bent down to add a note to the piece of parchment she had resting on the toilet seat lid.

"Fine," she snapped, making yet another mistake and having to cross it out before once again abandoning that and turning back to her hair. There was just that one strand at the front that refused to sit right. She used her right hand to steady the iron while her left hand located her wand and she cast a simple makeup charm.

It was as her eyelash curler came hurtling toward her eye that Charlie came crashing down on top of her, smashing the small bent metal into the cabinet and pulling everything else away from her.

"What in Merlin's …" she began but Charlie was checking her all over, almost as if she were hurt.

"Are you okay?" he asked a little breathless, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

She tried to glare but the pure concern written across his features was making it hard to do much else but melt.

"Uh I'm fine, why did you just kill my curler?" she asked looking at where his hand was still detaining the tool.

"It was coming right for you," he said, eyes wide as if she should have known.

"Ah yeah, it was supposed to. Honestly, Charlie, haven't you ever shared a bathroom with a female?" she laughed pushing him off her and rising to her feet. Her crisp white shirt was ruined.

"Of course, but I left when Ginny was barely ten," he explained, trying in vain to get the foundation stain off her collar.

"Sorry," he said, giving up and handing her the eyelash curler. He looked like a dejected puppy and she felt a little guilty for brushing off his heroics so lightly. Reaching up on her toes, she gave him a soft kiss.

"How about you fix us some coffee to go with breakfast and I will be out in a minute," she suggested. His smile returned and he stole one last kiss before going to finish what he had been doing. Hermione pulled off her shirt and went to get a new one chuckling the whole time.

Living with Charlie Weasley was certainly turning out to be interesting.

* * *

_Please Review!_


	5. Nesting

_A/N - A short chappy for you all!_

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Nesting

* * *

Hermione ran a hand through her hair and stood up as the door swung open. She returned Charlie's grin as he stepped over the nearest stack of files and picked his way toward her through the paper towers that made up what appeared to be a small city in her newly acquired office.

"How goes the cleaning?" he asked, finally reaching her side only to grip her hips and pull her against him. His light blue eyes twinkled against his tanned and freckled skin and she momentarily lost all brain function.

"It's getting there," she replied a little breathily, resting her paper-cut palms against his chest. She watched him survey the room and couldn't help but feel a little proud of her achievements in just one morning.

Three hours before she had felt like sinking into the floor when she had realised the daunting task ahead of her. Charlie had walked her over to her office, which until then had been a mass dumping ground for any and all paper work; there was no system that she could decipher. So before she could begin any sort of research she had felt the need to clean it up and the only way to do that while still being able to find anything was to resort to muggle methods.

"So, I guess that means you don't want to have lunch with me?" he asked, giving her a hopeful smile.

She sighed and kissed the edge of his mouth. "I would love to have lunch with you, but …" She looked back at the mess on the floor, knowing that if she left it like this it would be hard to get back into the swing of things.

"How about we have lunch here then?" he asked, pulling back to wave his wand. A small basket appeared at his side and she looked at him in surprise. How did he get to be so thoughtful?

"I'd love to." She smiled, clearing them a space amongst the stacks of paper and conjuring a blanket for them to sit on. She sat on the floor as Charlie opened the basket to reveal a corn beef sandwiches for him and a jam and hazelnut spread ones for her. It was a very thoughtful gesture.

He passed her a sandwich before sitting down and quickly tucking into his own. The bread was halfway to her mouth when she became so mesmerised by the way his mouth moved when he chewed that she forgot that she was supposed to be eating as well.

"What?" he asked around his half chewed meal.

She shook herself out of it and smiled before taking the first bite of the surprisingly delicious meal. "Nothing," she said when her mouth was empty again and shrugged.

They continued to study each other, only the sounds of them consuming their leisurely meal interrupted the silence and she tried not to groan as the gooey concoction melted on her tongue and slid smoothly down her throat.

"Good?" he asked her with a chuckle when she gave out a heavenly sigh after a particularly good bite.

"Amazing," she moaned, tucking into the other half and letting her eyes close to experience the full sensation. He watched her in amusement as she savoured ever morsel, finishing off her meal by licking the sticky jam and crumbs from her fingers only to flop back on the floor as if she had just had the best shag of her life.

"Charlie Weasley, you are the man of my dreams," she groaned, patting her stomach happily.

"Really, what about Ron?" He asked, shifting to rummage through the basket, avoiding her gaze.

"What about Ron?" she asked, sitting back up to see what treat he would produce next.

"Wasn't he the man of your dreams at one stage?" he asked, finding what he was looking for and pulling out a bag of salt and vinegar crisps. She was taken off guard by his pointed question.

"No, he was just a … fling," she replied lamely, biting her lip.

"Is that what I am?" he asked gently, capturing her reluctant gaze.

"No, you're different," she replied honestly.

"Oh," he sighed, sitting back and throwing her the unopened bag.

Wanting to lighten the mood she undid the bag and drew out a chip, bringing to her mouth and savouring the tangy flavour before snapping off half and 'accidentally' spilling crumbs down her shirt.

She knew he was watching the pale yellow crumbs fall beneath her collar; he licked his lips before looking her in the eye again. His questions were forgotten and a new glint made his eyes shine. She picked another crisp from the bag and repeated the gesture, raising an eyebrow as if asking what he was going to do about it.

Charlie smirked and crawled on his hands and knees toward her. Hermione soon discovered just how talented he was with his tongue, now if only she could glue it to the roof of his mouth so he didn't have to ask so many difficult questions.

* * *

_Please Review!_


	6. Dreaming Of Dragons

Dreaming of Dragons

_Hermione cringed as she heard Ron scream out her name again and again from somewhere down below, and moments __later__,__ she was hit with another curse. She just wished he would be __quiet__, wished he would stop making so much noise because each time he called her name__,__ she was punished for it._

_The wild woman above her continued to cackle with glee and in a bizarre twist, her mind conjured images of a Muggle__'__s version of a witch, all green skinned and warty. She braced her hands against the soft carpeted floor and tried not to break out in hysterical laughter as she heard the witch above her draw a deep breath before screaming 'crucio' again._

_She bit her lip until it bleed, but could not stop the scream that escaped her. She was vaguely aware of the shouting voice above her, demanding answers, demanding the truth; something she would not give away on pain of death. As Ron's muted cries reached the upper levels again__,__ she was hit with the curse for what must have been the tenth time and she began to feel the blessed numbness of unconsciousness wash over her._

_As she succumbed to the blackness that seemed to be seeping into her vision__,__ she heard her name shouted above the screams, screams she vaguely registered as being her own. Suddenly her name was shouted so loud she fought to open her eyes again but she couldn't seem to stop screaming._

_This was new, she was well aware she was dreaming but nobody had ever called out to her besides Ron. She struggled to open her eyes, struggled to take in her surroundings, even Bellatrix seemed to have stoped her maniacal tirade to look around for the source. _

"_Hermione!" the man shouted and she sat up, wanting to call back to him, wanting him to stop before …_

_Bellatrix seemed to recover from her shock and just as Ron's cries joined the other man's__,__ she was once again hit with the cruciatis curse._

"_Ron__,__ no!" she screamed._

Hermione sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air as she screamed over and over again, unable to see anything but the black haired witch with the crazy eyes leering above her.

"Hermione, it's ok. I'm here," the voice from her dream crooned soothingly. She was suddenly aware that she was not alone and that her arms were pinned to her sides.

Shaking her head to clear her vision and wake up properly, she found Charlie sitting in front of her on the bed, staring at her wide eyed, concern radiating off of him.

"Are you okay?" he breathed, realising she was finally awake. She could only nod mutely before launching herself into his arms, clutching his t-shirt in her fists as she buried her head in his neck.

"I will be," she mumbled against his hot skin, dimly registering that he was dusty and clothed, neither of which he had been when they had fallen into bed earlier. He didn't say anything, just soothingly ran his hands up and down her naked spine, holding her to his chest protectively until her body stopped shaking and her erratic heartbeat returned to normal.

It had been almost two weeks since her last nightmare, since she had become Charlie's lover and since she had started a new job. It had all seemed like two days, not an entire fortnight since her life had taken such an abrupt turn, one she was beginning to see was for the better.

They had spent these days developing the unspoken feelings between them, sharing picnics in her newly organised office space and glances across the dusty reservation that did not go unnoticed by the other residents. They spent their nights learning every soft curve and sensitive nerve ending, they explored hard muscles and toned flesh and had begun a nightly ritual of worship that Hermione hoped would never come to an end.

Hermione felt the tears on her face dry and blushed at her dramatic reaction to a dream she was not unfamiliar with; maybe it was the addition to it that had startled her. Yes, that was it – she was just shocked by the realisation that Charlie had become her very own knight in shining armour.

"Is something wrong with one of the dragons?" she asked, lifting her head from his tear and dirt stained shirt to look at him in the dark. She knew he was about to ask her about the dream again, but she truly wasn't ready to talk about it, not when it tied in so closely to the other questions, the ones about her and Ron. She just wasn't ready to face the scorn and rejection that was sure to come from the dragon tamer when he knew the truth.

"Not wrong, no," he answered her question, kissing her forehead and tugging her off the bed. "Put some clothes on and I will show you," he said, his gaze sweeping over her naked curves appreciatively before swatting her behind toward the walk-in wardrobe.

She mock scowled at him and hurried into the wardrobe, curious as to what would have him in such a playful mood at this time of night. She found some tracksuit pants and a tank top she had discarded in the corner and quickly tugged them on, rushing back into the bedroom to find Charlie leaning against the door frame, waiting for her with a grin and her wand in his hand.

"You might want to find some shoes," he chuckled, tossing her wand to her and pushing away from the door before turning into the living room. She could hear the clinking of chains, and knew he was winding it around his arm, the way she had seen him do at least several times a day since she had moved to Romania. She slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and raced out to find Charlie was already outside, winding a thick heavy rope into a circle so that it could join the chain resting on his shoulder.

He held out his free hand to her and she gladly took it as he strode across the compound and she stumbled and tripped on clods of earth behind him. He took her past the pair of Norwegian Ridgebacks, between the fences of a quartet of placid Chinese Greysnouts who were dozing lightly and across another long stretch of compacted dirt toward a path into the forest she had never noticed before, leaving the lights of the main reservation area behind.

"Where are we going?" she whispered, the thick blackness seemed to call for hushed voices.

"You will see," he grinned, turning to look at her in the dark before pulling out his wand and muttering Lumos. It didn't do much in revealing their surroundings which made Hermione move closer to Charlie's side and cling to his arm with both hands. She felt, rather than heard, the faint rumble of his chest as he laughed at her unwarranted fears.

"Don't worry, nothing will get you," he whispered and leaned down to nuzzle her neck as they kept up their pace. Hermione sighed but her grip did not slacken. They continued through the thick forest, Charlie seeming to know the way even without the aid of his wand until they came to another small clearing, this one more natural than the other, resting in the heart of the forest. A deep cavern protected by a massive magical dome that shimmered when the light reflected off it made Hermione pause and catch her breath. This was so unlike the other enclosures.

The hole beneath the dome was so deep that no light seemed to shine into it and she was too scared to step closer to the structure to see what was down there. Charlie's sharp tug brought her back to reality and she was now able to follow his gaze and see that high in the treetops was what appeared to be a tree house. She tilted her head and could vaguely see faint candle light emitting from the large window that faced the enclosure.

Charlie let out a shrill whistle and a long rope ladder rolled its way toward the ground, stopping just shy of Charlie's booted feet.

"You okay to climb?" he asked, snuffing the wand out and tucking it in his belt. Hermione looked up and realised she had never been this close to a tree this big in her life; it was an awfully long way up, and a terribly long way to fall. Gulping she put on her bravest smile and stepped up toward the ladder.

"Sure," she said with false cheeriness. Charlie didn't buy the lie for one second. He leant in and kissed her softly.

"I will be right behind you the whole way," he whispered into her hair, squeezing her tightly to his chest before giving her a small push toward the waiting rope. She placed her foot securely on the bottom rung and squealed in surprise when she felt both of her lovers' hand cupping her bottom to push her up – she would never admit just how much she loved this position.

It wasn't long before they were steadily making their way up the tree, Charlie helping her when her arms became tired until finally they pushed their way into the small wooden hut. Charlie brushed himself off and held out a hand to her, helping her to her feet; she was surprised to find the hut was not occupied by one of the other Dragon Keepers Charlie always seemed to be with, but the Head Keeper himself.

"Charlie. Miss Granger," the older man greeted, not shifting his gaze from the window. Hermione had only met Phillip Walters a handful of times, and he still managed to intimidate her. He was a very good looking man, tanned from hours in the sun and muscles as hard as Charlie's – he did not shy from hard labour but stood along side the other tamers to help. She had also seen him with his children and knew that he could incredibly sweet and gentle when he was in their presence.

"How is she going?" Charlie asked, rushing over to the window to stare in the same directions as Mr Walters.

"Seems to be doing fine, that potion did the trick," the Head Keeper responded gruffly, writing something on the notepad in his hand before pulling back from the glassless opening and stretching his arms over his head.

"We'll take over from here," Charlie said, motioning for Hermione to come forward into the light. The other man stood, his head almost brushing the slanted roof and he moved to the other side of the small room. That's when Hermione noticed the small cot against the back wall, and the small golden haired child curled up against the flat pillow at one end. Hermione smiled to see the little girl's thumb in her mouth while the other hand clutched her doll to her chest. Mr Walters tilted his head silently in goodbye before placing a silencing charm around them, scooping up the girl and Apparating them both to the forest floor.

"Why didn't we just do that?" Hermione asked, turning to look at Charlie who was watching her.

"Because then I wouldn't have been able to stare at your arse for a good fifteen minutes, now would I?" he teased, tugging her onto his lap and spinning her to look down into the magically protected enclosure.

"Of course," she smiled, happily settling into his embrace as he used his chest to lean her forward for a better view. Below them, everything became suddenly clear, the shapes of the craggy rock formations, the deep underground caves for sleeping during the day and the five massive beasts caged inside.

"Hungarian Horntails," he muttered in her ear. "For years we have been trying to get them to breed but because none of them were born here they do not feel that their surroundings are safe enough for their young," he reached around her and pointed to a small round rock, glowing faintly with a bright white light, "until now,"

"How did you do it?" she asked, drawing on the knowledge she had gathered in the past few weeks of perusing his library.

"We realised that we couldn't make just two of them feel safe enough, they needed to be in a community and settings that were close to familiar. We have been building this for nearly a year." His hushed excitement rushed over her, capturing her in its mesmerising pull. "Sheba laid tonight, the first Hungarian Horntail to be breed in captivity in Romania."

Hermione leant further forward, amazed at exactly what she was seeing now as Charlie continued with his infections excitement, "Walter thinks, with the right planning, that we can double the number of Hungarian Horntails in world by next year. He plans on turning the whole north side of the forest into the perfect habitat – all we need is you."

"Me?" she asked, turning away from the beautiful sight of a protective mother to look at her handsome lover.

"I don't know anybody with more knowledge and management skills than you – we want you to negotiate and organise the move of four hundred Hungarian Horntails to make us the biggest Dragon Reservation in the wizarding world."

Hermione turned back to look at the five, soon to be six Dragons in the nest, her brain already racing through details and numbers, not to mention contacts she had come across while she had been reorganising the filing system. She couldn't wait to get started.


	7. Finding a Happy Place

_A/N - Special thanks to remuslives who beta'd this in place of JackMyles. _

* * *

Finding a Happy Place

* * *

" … I have contacted the Ministry Official in this sector and he is organising the individual port keys for the rehabilitation specialists so that they can arrive at a moments notice. A house elf who speaks fluent English will be arriving tomorrow to take down the site specifics and give us a quote so that construction can begin as soon as possible on the additional housing for the thirty seven applicants who are set to arrive for training next month. Any questions?" Hermione asked, ending her long spiel by straightening her notes and looking up at the table full of men.

She tried not to smirk at the stunned looks she received, she knew she had gone beyond her job description and had become somewhat of an organisational freak, but there turned out to be a lot more to do than just caging up a couple of hundred beasts and moving them from one country to another.

"How did we ever run this place without you?" Phillip asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm not entirely sure to be honest." Hermione smiled, and a few of the keepers who had been required to attend the monthly meeting laughed. She saw Charlie smiling proudly from the corner of her eye and felt for once in her life that her bossy nature was not a bother, but in fact useful; it was a heady sensation.

The meeting concluded and the entire staff, which currently consisted of twenty two men and Hermione, all made for the door and into the refreshing night air. Charlie caught up behind her and scooped her hand into his, leading her toward the forest so they could start their watch of the Hungarian Horntails, as they did every third night.

"Have I told you lately how amazing you are?" Charlie asked, as they stepped into the line of trees and out of earshot. "I mean, I have been hearing stories about you since you were a first year, but it's true, you are absolutely incredible," he said, ploughing on ahead as Hermione stopped to grin at his back.

"Have I told you lately how sweet you are Charlie Weasley?" she asked, when he turned back to look at her.

"Oh once or twice … today," he smiled, approaching her slowly, until she had her back pressed against a tree trunk and he was looming above her, slowly tracing her jaw with his fingertips.

"It must be true then," she murmured, bringing her hands up to rest against his chest, feeling the strong muscles flex beneath his blue shirt as he leant in to kiss her. Hermione sighed as his warm lips met hers in what began as a gentle brushing of skin and quickly turned into a desperate battle of tongues.

Her leg crept up to twine around his hips as he ground his pelvis into hers, causing them both to gasp in need. It was always like this, a tidal wave of sensation that over took them and made them forget about the rest of the world. It was a few moments before they both noticed the giggles from behind another tree.

Charlie pulled back and grinned at her, while Hermione took a few moments to comprehend why the god before her had stopped his wonderful ministrations. She tugged at his neck and placed hot open mouthed kisses to his throat, all the while grinding her hips against his in an effort to get him to respond back.

"Hermione, love you need to stop," he groaned, pressing her against the tree, which rather than restricting her movements, caused her to gasp as the delicious sensations of having him pressed to every inch of her took over and made her head swim.

"I don't need to do anything," she growled, still not hearing the childish laughter behind them.

"You do, we have company," Charlie chuckled as Hermione paused and took in just who was watching them.

Looking past his broad shoulder, she tried not to groan when three small heads appeared to be watching them from a close by tree.

"Five is a crowd," she all but growled as she took possession of the Dragon Tamers mouth and apparated them to the first place she could think of, the hut above the Hungarian Horntail enclosure. The change of scenery barely fazed them as she slammed him against the panelled walls and continued to ravish his mouth.

Charlie groaned and gripped two fists in her hair, keeping her mouth to his as he slipped a knee between her legs, nudging her thighs apart. She shifted restlessly against him until her body was in line with his and his knee now rested against the apex of her thighs, inviting her to rub enticingly against him.

Both panting, they drew apart as Hermione ground her pelvis into him. Her head dropped back and her mouth went slack as he ran his lips along the smooth column of her neck.

"Merlin you taste good," he whispered against her skin, moving down toward the valley of her breasts. She shivered a little as his breath washed against her flush skin. The deep timbre of his voice never failed to send her mind and senses reeling. She moaned and clutched him to her tighter as his tongue snaked out and left trails of fire and ice in its wake.

Before long, they had both mindlessly shed their clothes, desperately trying to get as much skin on skin contact as they could manage. The both gasped when they made full bodied contact, Charlie's skin heated from a long day in the sun and Hermione's surprisingly cool from a day spent in a magically chilled room; it was a heady combination.

He ran his hands from the backs of her thighs all the way up her sides to brush lightly against her breasts, slowing his frenzied kisses into slow languid dips; this did nothing for her poor pounding heart nor her racing breath. The burning flame inside her began to smoulder as he moved them from against the wall and onto the low single cot.

His large frame cradled hers as he gently spread her legs and pushed into her. She cried out at the familiar sensation, clutching him to her once again as he kept his pace agonizingly slow. It was both heaven and hell at the same time and she was helpless to do anything but go along with the torturous ride.

Her nails made tracks down his broad shoulders as he slowly bought her to her peak, her low keen echoing off the small wooden walls as her muscles clenched and unclenched around his pumping member. He shuddered and cried out moments later as her enticing milking bought about his own release.

Hermione's entire body turned to liquid as Charlie collapsed on top of her, his head resting on her chest as they both fought to catch their breaths. Her fingers caressed stray strands of his hair and she decided that she never wanted to move from this cot, or leave this moment, ever.

She smiled as she felt his lips brush against her breast, not to entice but just because he could. Neither of them would be up for a repeat performance just yet, "Charlie?" she murmured.

"Mmmm?" he hummed, shifting a little bit to look up at her.

"I've been thinking," she said, shifting so that they were now both lying on their sides, noses almost touching, legs entwined.

"When are you not?" he teased, kissing her forehead and nose softly.

"I know," she grinned, "but I was thinking about Dragon's actually,"

"What about them?" he asked, grinning.

"Well, I know so much about them, in theory, but I know nothing about how you do what you do. I feel kind of like …" she faltered, unable to find the right way to say what she was thinking.

"What?"

"Well, like everyone here is privy to some secret, like I am the only one who doesn't know something," she explained.

"I don't think I understand," he frowned.

"I was watching you the other day," she said, trying to find a way to explain, "When the Chinese Crested tried to break out of her temporary pen and hurt herself and I realized that you just seemed to _know_ what to do. You all do, and here was me, hiding out in my office because I was terrified. In that situation, I would have panicked."

Charlie stared at her a few moments before leaning in to kiss her lips softly, "Love, what we do comes from years and years of living and working with Dragons. Remember the first night we were together and I told you about my scars?" Hermione nodded and he continued, "We were all scared and unsure in the beginning, but so are the Dragons, if we panic, so do they. It's all in the way you approach them, they respect confidence."

"Will you show me?" she asked, biting her lip in anticipation of his rejection. He stared at her a moment and she knew what he was thinking, it's too dangerous. Hermione knew he worried about her, knew that he insisted on walking her most places on the reservation because he was terrified something would happen to her; asking him this was asking him to put her in the direct line of danger.

"If that's what you want, then I will show you," he replied softly.

"I'd like that," she smiled and leaned down to kiss him.

"Mmmm, me too," he rumbled, pulling himself up to kiss her harder. Hermione was only too happy to succumb to it.

* * *

The next morning Charlie shook her awake. A glance out the window showed that the sky was only just turning grey, anticipating dawn. She tried to roll over and go back to sleep but he wouldn't let her.

"Come on Hermione. If you want to learn to work with the dragons you are going to have to wake up," he cajoled, pulling the sheet away from her head.

"Does it have to be this early though? It's not like you gave me a full eight hours of sleep last night," she grumbled, finally letting him pull her out of their warm cocoon.

"This is the only time we can do it without getting in everyone else's way, not to mention sacrificing our own jobs. I'll go and make us some coffee while you get some clothes on. Don't want to give the poor Dragons heart failure," he chuckled at his own joke and rolled back off the bed, padding off toward the kitchen.

Hermione watched him go and finally forced herself out of bed; she had asked to do this, and she wasn't going to waste the opportunity, no matter how tired (or secretly terrified) she was. She dressed quickly and found Charlie waving his wand over the mugs to make them drinkable.

"Thanks," she smiled, brushing her hair behind her ears before taking a sip. "So what exactly are we going to do this morning?" she asked, watching as he closed his eyes and inhaled the rich aroma.

"Nothing too dangerous, I am going to take you down to the breeding pens. We lock the recently hatched Dragons away from their mothers overnight so they don't get crushed during any nocturnal upsets. Today you will be helping me check over their vitals and transporting them back to their mothers," he explained.

"Who normally does that?" she asked, downing the rest of her drink in two gulps, suddenly very eager to leave.

"Philip, but recently Kathleen was caught following him without him realising it and it's becoming unsafe. So, he's happy to let someone else take over for a while." Charlie finished off his own drink and held out his hand.

"Its amazing those kids haven't been killed yet, the way they run around the reserve," Hermione mused, letting him lead her into the cool morning. It was eerily quiet outside; even the Dragons seem to be sleeping.

"They're pretty resilient, and most of us have learnt to keep and eye out for them, but at this time of morning who knows what could happen if they were left to roam," Charlie said, picking up his rucksack that lived just outside the front door, in case of emergencies.

They made their way west from the residential buildings and down the dusty slope to where Hermione knew they quarantined most of the breeding mothers. A large wooden structured marked the entrance to the specialised pens.

Hermione had never been down to this part of the reservation, tending to keep close to the well ordered buildings and homes; she had also never had a reason to come to this place. If she, Harry and Ron had been the ones up at this time of morning everyday, they would have discovered the hatchlings months ago.

They entered the small building just inside the tall gates and Hermione was surprised to find it looked much the same as her office, with a bit of a veterinarian twist on things. The walls were pristine white, a large wooden desk the only real furniture. One wall was completely taken up by a window that looked into what she could see was a sort of nursery, the type you saw at Muggle zoos when new animals were born and put on display. Charts and clipboards were the only decoration in the small but workable room.

"Come and look," Charlie said eagerly, nudging her toward the window with a smile. Hermione looked down and found three baby Peruvian Vipertooth's stared back up at them sleepily, their copper coloured scales glinting in the slowly rising morning light.

"Oh, they're so cute!" Hermione gushed without thinking.

Charlie chuckled by her side and slung an arm around her shoulder to hug her close, "I knew you would say that, which is why I have brought you to _these _babies,"

"Why?" she asked, wondering what he had planned.

"They are Peruvian Vipertooth Dragons; they will eventually grow to be about fifteen feet tall. Their fangs are also deathly poisonous, even at this age," he replied. Hermione's mouth formed a perfect O. Charlie wanted to show her that even though they looked cute and cuddly, they were anything but.

"So what do we do with them?" she asked, suddenly looking at them in a very different light.

"We measure their horns, which should grow to full maturity by the age of six months, we check their heart rates, which should be on average twelve beats per minute and then we open the gate on the opposite side of their pen and let them run back to their worried mothers," he explained.

"Okay, well I guess lead the way then," Hermione said, gesturing to the door that would lead them inside. Charlie was only too happy to go first.

Hermione would later say that her first hands on experience with Dragons was disastrous, but Charlie seemed over the moon about it. In fact, he spent the entire time it took to patch the nasty burn on the back of his hand, praising her and she was almost begging him to stop. By the time they returned to his home to shower and get ready for the rest of the day, he was already talking about what they could improve on the next day.

Hermione was beginning to wonder if it was too late for second thoughts.

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	8. A Place to Call Home

_A/N - Once again thanks to remuslives for beta reading this and to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and alerted so far. It has been much appreciated!_

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A Place to Call Home

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Hermione turned and locked the pen behind her, satisfied with her morning's achievements. Charlie stood just outside and offered her his hand as he led them back toward his small wooden house on the residential side of the reservation.

Her work with Dragons was coming along slowly, but she had not backed down. Charlie was a patient teacher and was almost as good a healer, patching her up when things went wrong. Several weeks of early morning tutoring from her lover had taught her a lot when it came to the fabulous beasts they were surrounded by. Infact, she barely made any protest anymore when he woke her up before the sun and dragged her out into the cold morning air.

As they approached the low front porch, Hermione stopped him and pulled him down into a heated kiss. They had a few hours before they both had to part ways and she could think of no better way to spend them than in bed. Charlie was used to her insatiable mood swings and responded just as quickly, taking charge of the kiss and lifting her high in his arms so that her feet no longer touched the floor.

They stumbled up the steps as he kicked the wire door to let them in. Hermione moaned into his mouth as his hands lifted her shirt and rested against her stomach. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder, feeling his arousal through his loose cotton pants. She heard the clink of a coffee mug on the table when she came up for air.

Gasping, she pulled away from Charlie's seeking lips. Ron sat at the kitchen table staring at his older brother and ex girlfriend with wide eyes. She waited for him to start yelling, like he had when he had first dumped her in Romania but instead he just continued to stare at where her hands rested high on Charlie's chest.

"Ron? What on earth are you doing here?" she finally asked when the silence in the room finally overpowered her sense of curiosity.

"I came for you," he replied, darting a glance at his brother before looking her in the eye. "You need to come home."

"I don't need to go anywhere, especially not with you. Besides, this is my home now, with Charlie, you can't just waltz in and expect me to blindly follow you back like a puppy, just because you want me to!" she exclaimed, pulling away from Charlies body to face her former lover angrily.

"I don't know what you were thinking coming back here Ron, but if it's just to upset Hermione, then you can leave," Charlie said, his voice almost devoid of emotion. Hermione felt his hand slip into hers as they faced the younger Weasley together.

"I don't know what I was thinking volunteering to do this either, but it was me, Percy or an owl in a few days time when it would all be too late," Ron spat, his anger always quick to rise.

"I don't care who came to drag me back, I am not coming home. I have a life here, a job and Charlie," Hermione told him, trying to calm herself down so Ron really didn't explode.

"Not even for your father?" Ron asked. "He needs you Hermione; I wouldn't have come if he hadn't asked me specifically."

"Dad?" Hermione asked, frowning. Her father owled her almost weekly, nothing in his letters indicated that he missed her enough to send someone after her, infact he always sounded so happy for her in his correspondences.

Ron licked his lips and stood up from the small table, glancing warily at Charlie as he approached her. He looked so uncomfortable that she felt her heart drop to her stomach.

"Tell me, please," she whispered, no longer caring about the last few months of hating him, but now needing her friend, her best friend, she amended to tell her what looked so hard for him to say.

"I'm so sorry," he replied, his voice cracking as he met her eyes with tears in his. "The muggle doctor says he only has a few days left, cancer; he didn't want you to know how sick he was, he keeps saying he's going to pull through but …" Ron's breath hitched when he couldn't continue.

"No." Hermione said, shaking her head and backing away from him. Charlie kept a tight grip on her hand. "No, he would have told me, he would have written something, anything. He wouldn't have kept this from me!"

"He didn't want to upset you," Ron whispered, as her knees buckled and she sank to the floor. Charlie knelt beside her as she stared straight ahead, unaware of the tears that streamed down her face; her father was dying.

She didn't say anything, couldn't say anything as her world began to swim before her eyes. She had never felt so numb in her life. It would be hours later that she would discover that while she broke down on the kitchen floor there were two sets of arms around her, offering her what little comfort she would accept.

When her sobs began to quiet, she pulled herself from the floor and walked like a zombie toward the bedroom. Charlie followed and Ron stayed behind, looking as uncomfortable as he had been when they had first stepped through the door.

Charlie found her standing inside the walk in robe, staring blankly at her clothes with an open trunk at her feet. "Hermione," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her from behind in comfort. She neither rejected nor accepted his touch; she just stood there staring blankly at the rack of neatly pressed clothes.

"He could have told me," she choked out, finally leaning back into her lovers broad chest. "He could have said something months ago and I wouldn't have been running around here being so happy," she began to cry again.

"That's why he didn't tell you love, because he didn't want you to be unhappy," Charlie hushed her, rocking her whole body back and forth now. Hermione took a few deep breaths and absorbed what he had just said, before pushing away from him.

"I need to pack," she said, tugging a few shirts off their hangers and dropping them into her suitcase.

"Okay, I will go and let Philip know what's happening and that we will be away for a couple of weeks, can you throw a few shirts in for me and grab my toothbrush?" he asked, already heading for the door without waiting for her response.

"Charlie," she called when he was almost out of sight. He ducked his head around the corner and looked at her curiously.

"Yes love?"

"I-I don't think you should come," she told him softly, looking down at her crumpled clothes in the trunk.

"What, why?" he asked, coming back into the wardrobe slowly.

"Because, I need to do this on my own. I don't want you to disrupt your life here because of me. Stay please, I will come back in a few weeks, after –" she left the sentence hanging, unable to say what they both knew would happen back in England.

"Are you sure that's what you want? I can be there for you if you need me, Hermione," he said, capturing her chin and bringing her teary gaze up to meet his.

"I'm sure, please stay Charlie, please. I need something good and whole to come back to," she whispered, her salty tears now making tracks down her face, coating his fingers.

"Only because you asked me to, but the moment you need me you have to promise to floo me. I will be there as soon as I can," he whispered harshly, leaning in to kiss her fiercely.

"I promise," she whispered when he pulled back, allowing her to breath again. He stared into her eyes before kissing her once more, turning when he pulled away this time and stalking from the bedroom. Hermione watched him go before turning back to her mindless packing – this was all for the best, she kept telling herself.

It was barely ten minutes later when she emerged from the bedroom, face scrubbed, hair pulled back harshly, trunk levitated at her side.

"Okay, let's go," she said to the silent brothers, who sat together at the kitchen table, locked in murmured conversation, any previous hostility that was between them now gone in the face of Hermione's grief.

"I'll take your trunk for you," Ron said quietly, pulling out his wand and transferring the heavy piece of furniture to his side, approaching the fireplace and opening a connection to the British Consulate before sending it through, "I'll ah, see you later then Charlie, I guess," Ron nodded to his brother before stepping in behind her luggage, leaving them alone.

"Hermione I …" Charlie started, tugging her shoulders into his chest and wrapping his arms around her, "I know we have never spoken about it, but I lo-" Hermione pulled away at that moment, turning her back to him.

"I have to go Charlie; we can speak about it when I get back. I'll miss you," she whispered as she stepped through the floo network and the flames turned back to red. All he could do was watch as she walked out of his life and he had never felt so alone.

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	9. Feeling the Loss

_**A/N**__ – A huge thank you to __**JackMyles**__ for whipping this chapter into shape and many hugs for __**Mistymist**__ for reading over my initial draft.

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Feeling the Loss

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It was less than an hour later when she and Ron arrived safely back in England. She penned a quick letter to Charlie, so he wouldn't worry, and sent it back through the floo network; it would be much quicker than sending an owl.

Hermione was barely aware of what was going on as her companion organized everything. He confirmed their international travel details, gathered her trunk from where the security wizards had moved it to be scanned for any contraband items and purchased an extra bag of floo powder so they could get to the Burrow.

She sat in the small plastic chair against the wall, mindlessly watching the countless witches and wizards who were flooing in from all around the world. The Ministry Consulates acted much like a Muggle Airport did, but instead of planes they had a terminal full of hundreds of fireplaces connected to countries all around the world. It was how they had all travelled to Romania in the first place.

She remembered how excited and happy she had been, to be travelling by this method, a magic she had only ever read about. Of course they could have taken a portkey, and went as a group directly to the Dragon Reservation, but Ron had humoured her and booked them all in to floo. Looking at him now she realised that not all aspects of their relationship had been bad, occasionally he had done things like that, just to make her happy.

Ron noticed her staring at him from where he stood over at the desk, waiting for the pretty witch behind it to stamp all of their papers, and gave her a half smile. She considered how much it must have taken for him to be the one to come and collect her; to overcome all that had happened and forgive and forget. Now he was there for her and she suddenly couldn't imagine anyone else being the bearer of bad news; except perhaps for Harry.

He finished with their paperwork and levitated her trunk, weaving through a group of Japanese tourists to where she sat.

"You ready to go?" he asked, holding out his hand and helping her up. She took several deep breaths as he led her over to the domestic fireplaces and opened a connection directly to the Burrow. Staring into the green flames she took a deep breath and tried to shake the surreal feeling the whole experience had taken on.

It was mere seconds when they landed in the familiar kitchen, Hermione's trunk following them through soon after. The kitchen was eerily silent for a moment as a dozen sets of eyes turned to stare at them.

Hermione was almost tempted to turn around and floo out and face her back to the gathered crowd. She had never felt uncomfortable in this place and she was suddenly very grateful for that. She took one step back but Ron grabbed hold of her hand to keep her at his side.

"We're home," Ron said, and Hermione glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. That was the best he could come up with?

"Never would have guessed Ronniekins, and here we were thinking the Dark Lord had come for tea." Fred snorted, his casual words seeming to break the tense silence that had stretched throughout the kitchen. Molly was the first to launch herself at the young witch, hugging her close, babbling incoherently about how happy she was to have her back and how sad it was under the circumstances. As she was passed from Weasley to Weasley and finally Harry, Hermione could do nothing but accept their hugs in a daze.

"Charlie didn't come with you?" Harry whispered in her ear, but his question must have been heard by the whole room because once again everyone seemed to stop.

"I-I asked him to stay," she replied timidly, almost regretting that decision now.

"And he didn't insist on joining you dear?" Molly asked, darting a worried glance at her husband. She knew that if her own father had been on his death bed Arthur would have moved heaven and earth to be at her side.

"Of course he bloody insisted Mum," Ron snapped, when he saw Hermione's eyes begin to fill with tears again, "Charlie and Hermione have been working really hard on the Hungarian Horntail project and they decided not to let the whole thing fall apart. I think it was a smart decision." Hermione was as surprised as everyone else, he was the first one they all thought would be making nasty accusations about just what had been going on in Romania, but he seemed well informed and even defensive about the whole thing.

"Oh," his mother said, now looking at Hermione who refused to look anyone else in the eye. "I guess that was a very … sensible decision dear. But I am sure you are tired from your journey, why don't you head on upstairs to wash up and I will make you a plate for when you are ready."

"Thank you Mrs Weasley, but I would rather just see my father first. I assume he is staying at the Royal London?" she asked, already heading for the door.

"Yes, of course, your mother is there with him now, but Hermione, I …" Molly never got to finish what she wanted to say because the young witch was already out the back door, her wand drawn to apparate away. The matriarch turned to look at her youngest son with a glare.

"I'll go after her, Mum," he mumbled, racing out the door to follow.

"What the bloody hell happened in Romania?" George asked, standing with the rest of his family, staring out the back window.

"Maybe she broke up with Charlie for Ron," Ginny suggested.

"Or maybe Ron and Charlie got in a fight and Ron dragged Hermione here by the hair," Fred guessed, seeming to like the idea of his brothers fighting over the one woman.

"Maybe Ron's telling the truth, maybe she really did ask Charlie to stay behind," Harry defended, pulling out his own wand, deciding to find out if he was right. Ginny glanced at her fiancé and followed his lead; they were halfway out the door when Mrs Weasley words stopped them.

"Maybe we should just wait until she is ready to tell us; after all, it must have been a very trying day for her. Harry love, tell Mrs Granger that she is welcome to join us for dinner if she decides to take a break from that nasty hospital food," Mrs Weasley said, not wanting to admit she had her own theories about Hermione and just what had happened in the few hours Ron had been gone. Her daughter and soon to be son-in-law nodded and left without another word.

Hermione arrived with a pop in the small disused courtyard at The Royal London Hospital; the area had been set up for witches and wizards who had Muggle family and friends staying within its walls. There was an elderly witch helping her tiny granddaughter re-secure her robes to one side and a man in a crisp business suit seated on a low stone bench typing furiously on his laptop, all three looked up at her before turning back to what they had been doing. Hermione barely spared them a glance as she pocketed her wand safely and prepared to exit the ivy covered courtyard.

"Hermione, wait!" Ron called to her; she spun around and watched as he ran toward her.

"You didn't have to come," she mumbled, understanding his intentions before he had even voiced them. She turned around and continued into the sterile hallway, making her way through the winding corridors, following the signs the whole way.

"I wanted to," he puffed as he kept up with her brisk pace, "Plus, I couldn't stand listening to them talking behind my back while you were here on your own," he added.

"I suppose they are curious why Charlie isn't here with me," she sighed, skirting around an empty gurney and changing her direction toward a set of steel elevator doors.

"I think we all are," Ron said, letting her punch the up button.

"I told you why, the Hungarian Horntail project is too important to just abandon. We agreed that this was the best solution,"

"I still think it should be Charlie here with you, not me. The whole family does,"

"Well you and the whole family can mind your own business. Besides, I didn't ask you to be here," Hermione snapped a little too harshly. The elevator doors pinged and opened; the couple entered and didn't speak to each other until they exited three floors up.

Hermione strode toward the brightly lit reception desk and took her place in line to be served; it was there they were joined by Ginny and Harry. Hermione didn't say a word as the three quietly moved to the side, allowing her to approach the desk alone. After a few enquiries she was giving the directions to the floor above them, she thanked the helpful receptionist before moving over to her friends.

"He's upstairs, you guys can go now if you want," she said.

"We'll wait for you, just take your time," Harry responded kindly, snaking his arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the elevators they had not long stepped out of.

"You really don't have to," she complained as they stepped out on the floor above, looking both ways before turning toward the right, following the doors until they arrived at the private room her father had been moved into.

"No, we don't have to, we want to," Ron responded, giving her a shove toward the door when she hesitated. Taking a shaking breath she entered the room alone.

Her mother launched herself into Hermione's arms the moment she saw her, both women suddenly sobbing almost uncontrollably. The man on the bed remained unconscious.

"Do you think he knows I am here?" Hermione asked a few hours later, looking away from her dying father and into the eyes of her grieving mother. Hermione had been devastated to learn that her father had not woken up since the day before.

"I'm sure of it," the older woman responded, leaning over her husband to take her daughters hand. The family remained that way until the sky outside the windows turned dark and the halogen lights above gave everything a harsh glare.

She looked out the window, many of the surrounding buildings throwing their own harsh light into the sky and she suddenly longed for the moonlit skies of the Romania Mountains. She felt a deep pang in her chest when she admitted to herself that it wasn't just the stars she missed, it was counting them for hours while laying in Charlie's arms. Swallowing hard to fight back the tears she began to deeply regret forcing him to stay.

"Is Charlie outside waiting for you? You can ask him in if you want," her mothers hoarse voice broke the lengthy silence.

"No, he stayed behind in Romania." Hermione answered with a shake of her head.

"Oh, I'm sure he had his reasons," her mother dismissed, turning her concerned frown back to her dying husband. That was the last they spoke for the next few hours; Hermione was dying to tell her mother about her time spent away, about the thrill of finally finding someone who understood her, but it just wasn't the right time.

It was several minutes after midnight when the man on the bed began to cough - great wracking heaves that shook his whole frame. Her mother jumped from her chair and slammed her hand against the emergency button; Hermione remained seated, glued to her position by his side.

Hermione began to shake her head in denial when her fathers' skin began to turn cold and his breathing became laboured, the coughing having all but stopped when his lungs finally fought to gain air. It was moments later that his soul left his body with a deep sigh, his whole frame falling still as the two women in his life sobbed above him.

The trio waiting on the hard couches down the busy hallway all looked up in surprise when the door finally opened. A very red faced and puffy eyed Hermione exited. They knew the moment her father had died, it had been the point when the loud sobs could once again be heard emitting from the paper thin walls and moments later when a team of nurses and doctors came running.

"You can go home now if you want," she mumbled, looking up at the roof and sniffling as if she were about to start crying again.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," Harry said, breaking away from Ginny's grip to hug his friend. Ron joined them and the trio stood for a long time.

"Is there anything I can do?" Ginny asked timidly, not sure if Hermione would welcome her touch, not after the argument in Romania.

Hermione broke away enough to look at her old friend, "If you could contact Charlie, tell him what's happened … tell him I need him," she asked, her voice breaking at the last part.

"Sure, I'll floo him," she said, turning down the hall in search of a place to privately floo call her brother. The trio remained in the hallway.

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	10. Silence

_A/N – A massive thank you once again to JackMyles and her amazing use of the comma. Hope you enjoy this!

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Silence

"Where is he?" she asked Harry for what must have been the hundredth time. They stood outside the church, greeting mourners as they passed through the doors to honour a man whose life had been cut short. Hermione accepted their sympathies graciously but it was obvious to all that knew her that her attention was not on those wishing to express their sorrow. Her eyes would leave theirs almost immediately, continuing their search for the one thing she needed right now – Charlie.

"I'm sure he is just running late," her best friend sighed, leaning against the railing that led up the church steps. He casually observed the witch bounce on the balls of her feet; her hair remained unbound and from the looks of it un-brushed, she had gone sans makeup, no matter how convincing Ginny had made her arguments concerning just a little bit of blush. The bags under her eyes were an angry, puffy red and her lips were so chapped you could see where they were about to bleed. She looked like hell and there was nothing he could do about it but stand by her side and wait.

"Hermione dear, we're about to start," Mrs Weasley called gently from the carved wooden doorway, holding out her hand in invitation. Hermione just shook her head not ready to accept that he wasn't going to make it.

"He should be here any minute," she argued, standing on her toes to get a better look over a nearby hedge, as if the Dragon Tamer would Apparate there any moment.

"Well he can join us when he does, but right now you have to come inside, they don't want to start without you and everybody is waiting," the aging matriarch argued, walking over and tugging her elbow to get her to come inside. "You too, Harry. Come along and take your seat," she added, pursing her lips and wondering just where her second eldest son could have got to.

The rest of the Weasley clan all twisted in their seats, having situated themselves along a back pew. Arthur's eyebrows raised high toward his receding hairline when his son was not among them; Molly just shook her head and guided her surrogate daughter toward the front to join her distraught mother.

The coffin was closed and blanketed with white roses and thick green foliage. Every time Hermione glanced at the long wooden box she felt a small shiver go down her spine; the fact that her father's body was trapped in there still hadn't quite sunk in. Molly led her to the front pew and gave her a gentle push to toward the grieving widow. The moment she sunk down onto the uncomfortable wooden bench her mother latched onto her with a death grip and proceeded to soak her shirt with salty tears.

She swallowed hard and wished she had the strength to cry. The last few days had been a mixture of disbelief, sorrow and, above all, loneliness. No matter how many people hugged her and told her how sorry they were, none of them were able to give her the comfort she needed, the comfort she craved. As the service began she twisted in her mother's arms to watch the door with one eye, hoping and praying that Charlie would walk through at any moment. He didn't.

The service ended rather quickly, or at least that's what it felt like to her. Several of her father's colleagues and her aunt had all stood up and said kind words about him; she wished she had paid more attention, that her thoughts had been in front of her rather than behind, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

She was barely aware of things after that; she didn't stop to thank Harry who guided her into one of the waiting cars; she failed to acknowledge her father's boss when he held the door to her family home open to her. She didn't taste the canapé thrust in her hand by her perky cousin Bridgette, nor did she accept the mint her great grandmother slipped in her hand when she thought nobody was looking. In fact, as the wake continued and more people realised that the war heroin was not responding to them, the more they began to ignore her and turn their attention to her mother, who was willing to accept any and all comfort.

Hermione sighed when the last overly concerned relative moved away from her, disheartened by her silence. She began to roam her childhood home, smiling fondly as she passed a particular photo, and feeling the tightness in her chest when she came across the marking on the wall where her father used to measure her growth and hug her proudly every time she grew just a little bit. Merlin, he would even hug her when she didn't.

Her wanders took her up the narrow staircase, away from the crowd downstairs, until she found herself standing at the door to her parents' bedroom. The room was the same as she had always remembered it. Of course, over the years it had had a new paint job and a change of furnishings, but the bed was still where it had always stood, the window had never changed nor had the heavy lace curtains that blocked the sun out and the massive fireplace still took up one side of the wall. She started toward the fireplace before she was even aware her feet were moving.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small worn beaded handbag; only Harry, Ron and Charlie knew she still carried the old thing around like a security blanket. Much like her dreams, the fear and paranoia of being caught by rogue death eaters still followed her around. The bag contained everything she could think to have in an emergency, including a small pouch of floo powder.

Tipping its contents into the palm of her hand she quickly located her wand and flicked it at the door, allowing her privacy. She ignited a flame in the grate and threw the powder into it. The green glow reflected harshly on her pale face as she clearly stated her location before thrusting her head into the flames.

"Charlie?" she called into his empty living room, "Are you there?"

She was greeted by absolute silence. From what she could see nothing had changed. His duffel back was where he always dumped it, just inside the door, the book she had been reading not a week earlier was still open on the kitchen table, as if she was going to return any hour and pick up where she left off.

She spun her head to see as far as she could see but everything looked the same as if she had just left there, except there was no Charlie in sight. Maybe he was stuck in transit, or maybe he had had trouble obtaining a portkey, or maybe he had decided to fly. She had no idea.

Sitting back on her haunches she watched as the flames turned back to their natural colour. Her little experiment had done nothing toward comforting her and she realised that she would just have to do as everyone said and wait for him, that he would turn up eventually. Getting up off the floor she decided it was probably best to return to the wake before anyone noticed she was missing.

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It was a little before dawn when she woke up gasping, covered in an all too familiar cold sweat. Immediately she rolled over to reach for Charlie, needing the comfort she knew he could offer but found her bed woefully empty. Sitting up slowly, her sleep fogged brain registered that this was not their bed or even their room and that she was very much alone.

She was shocked to realise that in a few short months she had become attached to another human being to the point that she craved them even in her subconscious. Charlie had offered her the only comfort she had found in years, he had been the one to take away her nightmares and the logical part of her brain told her that it was only natural now, in her time of need, that she was so desperate to have him by her side.

Swinging her legs to the edge of the bed, she scooted out of the warm sheets and dropped down onto the worn wooden floor of the Burrow's third floor. In all the confusion it had been decided by Molly and her Aunt Stephanie that she would return to the Burrow and her mother would go home with her aunt. Hermione was happy with this arrangement, knowing that when Charlie finally made it, he would arrive at the Burrow first.

Leaving her lover's childhood bedroom, she padded down the stairs and headed straight for the kitchen, realising she hadn't eaten properly in days. Her stomach gave a lurch and a loud grumble as she headed for the pantry.

"I have a plate warming in the oven for you if you wanted to wait a few minutes," a voice said quietly from the direction of the large kitchen table. Hermione's hand came to an abrupt halt.

"How do you know these things?" she asked Mrs Weasley, turning to look at the older woman sitting in her tartan dressing gown at the table.

"I know when one of my children is hurting, the first place they head is the kitchen," she responded with a small smile, patting the chair next to her. Hermione returned the smile, finding comfort in the fact that after all these years, the Weasleys still considered her one of their own.

"I couldn't sleep, I hope I didn't wake you," she apologised, finding no other explanation for her being there.

"No, not at all. I came down to make sure the fire hadn't gone out just in case Charlie finally made it through when I heard you cry out from upstairs. I thought you would be joining me; I noticed you hadn't eaten all day," Molly said, sliding her arm over the younger woman's shoulder and hugging her close. "I wish there was more I could do than just a hug and a piece of pie," she murmured into her hair.

"Right now if you added Charlie to that list I would be fine," Hermione sniffed, feeling the prickle of tears.

"I cannot for the life of me figure out where that boy could have got to," his mother speculated, pulling away and getting up to check the oven.

"Me neither." Hermione agreed, looking forlornly into the flames.

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	11. Tough Decisions

_**A/N **__– This chapter was not what I originally intended and no matter what I tried I just couldn't seem to get it how I wanted it. However after much beta working by the fabulous _**Mistymist**_ and _**JackMyles**_ it is finally ready to post. Once again I thank everyone who has been so patient with this story.

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Tough Decisions

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It was only a matter of minutes after Hermione had left that Charlie started pacing. The house felt odd, empty without her; which was bizarre because he had spent years on his own before she and his siblings had come to visit. It just went to show how quickly the witch had managed to get under his skin.

Cursing, he ran his fingers through his hair, looking about for something, anything to distract him. There on the table was the book on Dragon Husbandry he had lent her not the day before. She was already three quarters of the way through. Maybe, he thought, if he saved her page and re-read it himself while she was away, they could sit down when she got home and talk about it, get her mind off whatever happened back in England.

Heartened by this thought that he could do this one small thing, he headed to the table and dog-eared her page before turning the hard cover back to its beginning. It was under two hundred words later that he gave up on this endeavour, unable to concentrate and unwilling to sit still.

A load of dishes, a quick spell to clean the floors and the unpleasant task of locating all the dirty socks under the bed later and he was still feeling completely uneasy in his own home. Looking around once more he tried to make up his mind – did he go out to work or did he go against her wishes and follow her?

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and imagined her reaction if he showed up not an hour after her. She would feel betrayed, she would be angry and she would probably try to shut him out from family business. He didn't want that; he liked his Hermione open and happy and he wished to keep her that way. This thought in mind, a happy Hermione the deciding factor, he tugged on his heavy boots, slung his rucksack over his shoulder and shoved his way out the fly screen door into the steadily rising heat.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set when Charlie hammered in the last picket in the new holding pen. He stood back and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The head dragon keeper chose this moment to show up.

"Good work son, but you could have just used magic you know," Phillip said fondly, approaching the Dragon Tamer and inspecting his handy work. Despite the fact that there wasn't quite fifteen years between them Phillip still insisted on calling him 'son'.

"I know, but I just needed to …" Charlie began to explain, trailing off when he couldn't quite express into words just why he had been doing everything manually all day.

"Hit something?" Phillip supplied helpfully, squinting at the wire and post fence in the fading light.

"Yeah," he exhaled.

"You know how my house got built?" Phillip asked suddenly, looking up proudly at the largest house at the Reservation, made completely of local materials and looking as if the same spells his parents used to keep the Burrow up were being used here too.

"House elves?"

"Nope. My wife left me this land in her will, who got it from some great Aunt or something she had never met. Anyway, right after Lizzie's death I couldn't stand to be near our old house. Everything made me think of her, the furnishings, the garden – even the weather reminded me of something about her. Well, this damn near drove me crazy it did, so within a fortnight of her funeral I had packed the kids up and shipped us all here," Phillip explained, looking at the house with a strange mixture of pride and sadness now. "It took me eight months to build her by hand. Every brick, every tile, and every piece of timber _I_ put in there. We lived in a tent that whole time and when we were done, well, I guess I just felt better about everything. She would have liked it here, my Lizzie." At this the man smiled fondly and his smile only grew wider when his tiny daughter pushed open the front door and came running toward them.

Charlie had never heard Phillip speak this much about _anything_ that wasn't to do with Dragons, let alone speak about his wife. He felt both saddened and comforted by the tale, able to relate a small sliver of it back to his situation now. Currently everything, even down to his interaction with the young Dragons, reminded him of her. It made concentrating on anything requiring the smallest bit of mental exertion very hard.

Kathleen had reached them by now, her doll clutched to her chest. Phillip swung her up into his arms and she squealed with delight, "What are you up to Poppet?" he asked, tweaking her pony tail. Charlie smiled as she leant over and whispered something in her father's ear. Philip listened intently before turning to Charlie.

"It seems there is a head in my fireplace. Maybe we should go and see who it is," he said, a small grin playing on his weathered face as his daughter wriggled around, waiting to be on her feet so she could make it back to the house first.

* * *

"So that's the plan, Adrian and Mikhail will head off in the morning to help recapture the eight that got loose and the rest of us will stay behind and get these lodgings finished. I just wish they had told us sooner that they were ready to relocate a month early."

"It's not their fault we miscalculated the severity of the weather on the Carpathian Mountains, we should have known it would be too risky to ask them to cross so close to winter," Charlie sighed, sitting back in his chair and closing his eyes, sick of arguing with everyone else over whose fault things were and why.

The relocation specialist had flooed through several hours before from a small inn located deep in the Carpathian Mountains, a good seven hours from where they were. Under their own discretion and as a result of their own investigations, they had chosen to move the herd of Hungarian Horntails over a month early and had failed to tell them for the stupidest of reasons. Assuming that just three of the specialist could keep track of so many of the beasts was ludicrous at the best of times.

"They could have contacted Hermione months ago and we could have been better prepared – as is we have a pen to hold half a dozen while the other couple of _hundred_ are just going to have to roam free," Adrian, one of the keepers who was setting out into the mountains complained.

"Yes, they could have, but they didn't. There is no use moaning about it now. I just want everyone to know they have to pull their weight for the next few weeks or this whole project will just wash down the drain," Phillip said, bringing an end to all arguments. "I'll see you boys off in the morning – everyone else, get a good night's rest and be prepared for a hard day tomorrow." With that, he stood up and left the meeting room.

Charlie opened his eyes and watched as everyone filed out of the small room, leaving only Adrian and Mikhail quietly talking to the side. "Say Charlie, why don't you come with us? You used to love this sort of thing," Mikhail asked in his thick German accent.

"I can't, I'm waiting for word from Hermione," he sighed, standing up too.

"Well, if you change your mind, we leave at dawn. It would be great to have a third person along," Adrian offered. Charlie just shrugged and walked out the door into the cool night.

Charlie walked slowly back to his house, he was in no rush to return and see the things that had left him so unsettled this morning. Hopefully the added workload would act much like his physical labour had today and would help keep his mind off her.

Dropping his rucksack just inside the door, he kicked off his boots in the direction of the coffee table. He was bending his neck to try and get the kink out when he heard his fireplace come to life and his name being called loudly.

"Charlie? Are you there?" Ginny's voice called loudly.

He walked around the couch quickly and dropped to his knees, "Yeah, what's happening Gin? Is Hermione okay?" he asked.

His sister looked at something behind her before turning back to him. "Nice to see you too," she grumbled sarcastically. She looked him carefully in the eye before announcing, "Her dad just passed away, she asked me to floo you."

"Okay, give me a second to pack some things and I will be there as soon as I can," he said quickly, already getting off the floor.

"Charlie, wait," she said sadly, stopping him in his tracks.

"What?"

"Well, the thing is," she started before taking a deep breath, "she asked me to tell you not to come. That she was fine."

"Is she sure? I can be there by morning," he argued, desperately wanting to fight what he was being told.

"I'm just passing on the message. She said to tell you that she will home in a few weeks, after everything has settled."

Charlie stared at his sister for a long minute feeling utterly useless. "Tell her … I miss her," he finally stuttered.

"I will. She's with Harry and Ron now, I better be getting back to them."

"Yeah, go. And Gin?"

"Yes?"

"You're a good friend to her, thanks for being there."

"No problem." His sister smiled before pulling back from the flames, allowing them to burn back to their usual fiery red.

Charlie sat back on his haunches, trying to process that his girlfriend didn't need him, didn't want him. It was a slight blow but then again she probably thought asking him to stay here was for his own good – for the good of the reservation.

He sat on the rug for another five minutes before making up his mind. Standing so abruptly he almost upended the coffee table he rushed to the door, pulled his boots back on and ran back out into the night.

Adrian and Mikhail were just leaving the main building that housed the conference room and the few office spaces available.

"I've changed my mind, I'm coming with you in the morning," he panted.

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	12. Burn

_A/N - Much thanks must once again go to the wonderful JackMyles, who is probably having nightmares about bad punctuation as we speak._

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Burn

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"Nobody is answering at the Reservation," Ron said trying to keep his tone light, trying to make it appear as if everything was normal in front of Hermione. He stood up from in front of the fire place and dusted off his pants. It had been a week since the funeral and every few hours or so they had taken turns checking Charlie's home for signs of life but to no avail.

"Maybe it burnt down," Percy droned from the desk in the corner where he was working on some paperwork.

"We would have heard from him if the place burnt down," Ginny replied dryly, using her teeth to cut off the thread on the shirt she had just repaired.

"Maybe the dragons escaped and ate everyone," Fred added, moving a chess piece one place and watching as it defeated one of his twin's pawns.

"You may be on to something there," George told his brother as everyone cast a look Hermione's way. She hadn't moved an inch for the last hour; she just kept staring blindly at the spot just above the fireplace, acting as if none of them had spoken.

"Everybody is just probably really busy trying to get everything ready for the Horntails," Ron said, refusing to believe that Charlie would really abandon Hermione like this. Not after the way he had seen them together last week, it was impossible to believe that his own brother could have such a change of heart so quickly.

"Heard from Charlie yet?" Harry asked, walking into the living room with an apple in his hand.

"Not yet," Ron said, giving another meaningful look in Hermione's directions but saying nothing else.

Hermione was very aware that everyone was giving her strange looks but she had given up on caring, on bothering to join their conversations or speculations. She knew the truth, she knew that Charlie had realised how stupid a relationship between them really was. He was just doing what any sensible person would do; he was cutting off all ties to her.

She never thought she could feel this shattered in all her life; being tortured, fighting in a war and on the edge of death several times had nothing on the feelings that were currently tearing up her insides like a razor blade. They had all been for the greater good but this, this was a personal attack.

Unshed tears burnt her throat just like if someone had held her down and forced her to swallow acid. Her chest ached yet felt hollow at the same time, craving for something it could not find, searching for something it longed to keep. Her mind kept churning, turning in circles, never focusing on one thing. Until she began losing hours just staring into space, letting the hurt wash over her in drowning waves. She didn't have the strength to fight it or deal with it and she was just as confused as that sounded.

She tore her gaze away from the cracks above the fireplace when her thoughts began to be too much and found Harry and Ron staring at her with concern. She stared back at them for a moment, but when Harry opened his mouth to say something to her she freaked. She didn't want to hear his words of comfort or his pathetic excuses for Charlie, so she ran.

With no destination in mind she just let her feet carry her, through the kitchen, out the backdoor and into the fading light. She could escape the voices of her friends in the living room but not the ones in her mind. Over and over again she kept telling herself she was worthless and repulsive, that she had been stupid to think Charlie wanted her for anything but a temporary companion in his bed.

Slowing to a walk she tried to put as much distance between herself and the house, heading in a straight line to the hills that could always be seen silhouetted from the Weasley's kitchen. She arrived at her destination quicker than she expected, the muted pink sunset sending streaks across the sky as she flopped on the grass. Moments later her whole body began to heave as she finally gave way to the sobs she had been suppressing for days.

Molly Weasley found her rocking back and forth on the grassy hill, crying loudly into her robes. Shaking her head she approached the young woman slowly and sat down beside her to wait it out. She didn't say a word or make a move beyond slipping her arm around Hermione and letting her soak the neckline of her robe.

Hermione had never been so happy to have someone hug her than at that moment, to know that she wasn't alone. It was dark by the time she pulled away, her sobs turning to snivels and eventually the occasional sniff but she seemed to be over the worst of it.

"My father died when I was fifteen," Molly said quietly, "I was at Hogwarts at the time, and I remember everyone treating me differently when I came back to classes, as if I was going to snap and go insane if they even so much as spoke too loudly around me."

"I-I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, unsure what to say.

"No need to be, dear. It wasn't you who treated me like a Muggle in Quidditch Shop."

"No, I suppose not. But it's not just Dad that is bothering me. I mean, I know that's not why everyone keeps looking at me like I am about to break …" she croaked, unable to collect her jumbled thoughts enough to get across her meaning.

"I know, dear. This business with Charlie has them all worried, they don't want to see you making yourself sick so soon after such a terrible tragedy," Molly said with understanding.

"I know they care, I'm not completely oblivious, but this past week they have all been trying to act so normal around me. There have been times where I have wanted to jump up and scream. They are treating me as if the fact that Charlie doesn't want _me_ any more is going to mean I want nothing to do with _them_ any more."

"Is that what happened in Romania? Did you and Charlie have a falling out?"

"No, in fact he … well, no." She was about to tell his mother he had almost told her he loved her, but decided against that declaration. "There was nothing wrong with us as a couple, I didn't see this sudden change of heart coming at all."

"What do you think made him change his mind?"

"I don't know. I didn't lie when I said I hadn't spoken to him. I really did ask him to stay behind for the Horntails, but I told him I would be back and Ginny said she asked him to come to the funeral. Somewhere between then and now he must have changed his mind, decided he didn't want me." Her voice hitched at these last words.

"You mean you didn't ask him yourself to come here last week?" Molly asked with a frown.

"No," Hermione sniffed, feeling the tears start again. "I asked Ginny to do it for me, and I had Mum to think of. She said he was on his way but he never showed up … I mean who would? I honestly don't blame him for taking a step back; this was never his mess to begin with."

"Oh love, don't think like that. I am sure there is a logical explanation for everything, and if there isn't you know there is always space for you in my home," the Matriarch soothed, standing stiffly and holding out her hand to the younger woman before the tears could start again. This little conversation had given her a fair idea of just what may have happened to her son and it had everything to do with her daughter.

"You must be freezing sitting out here for so long, I am sure we could both use a cup of tea," she said, not wanting to upset Hermione any more than was necessary, before apparating them both into her kitchen.

* * *

Ginny was standing at the sink, washing the dishes. Harry stood beside her drying them and Ron had the task of putting them all away. All three jumped when the sound of Molly and Hermione returning ripped through the kitchen.

Ginny had been feeling quite ill since Hermione had run from the house, whether it was from guilt or something the twins had put in her food she wasn't sure. But when her mother had gone looking for the grieving witch soon after the feeling had increased ten fold.

Hermione looked like she was about to burst into tears again, her face so red and blotchy she could have been mistaken for being badly sunburnt. She clung to Molly's hand and avoided everyone's gaze as she had been doing for the last week. Once again the sick feeling returned to Ginny and she finally decided what she was experiencing was a severe case of remorse. She was the cause of all of this.

It wasn't that she didn't like Hermione, in fact she often admired her. It was the fact that at times she was just insanely jealous of her and in the situation where she had given up one of her brothers to be with the other, she was extremely angry. Hermione had nearly every male in the family wrapped around her little finger that she thought it had been about time someone had taken her down a notch.

Her feeling about this weren't new, in fact she had been jealous of Hermione all through school, especially when she was off fighting a war with Harry and Ron while she had been forced to stay behind and wallow in self pity.

So when the opportunity presented itself she had exacted her own brand of revenge, not realizing just how serious her relationship with Charlie had been. They were just friends with benefits right? Hermione did a bit of office work for them and in return Charlie let her warm his bed at night. Once the Hungarian Horntails were safely in the reserve Hermione was supposed to return to England and then they would just forget about each other, right?

Looking at Hermione now she knew she had been very very wrong. The look on her mother's face said it all.

"Harry, Ron, would you mind leaving us for a few minutes?" Molly asked, gesturing to the two boys, who dropped what they were doing at the sight of tears and practically ran from the room.

"Ginny dear, pop the kettle on, would you?" her mother asked, leading Hermione to the table and sitting her down as if she were a delicate doll.

"Sure Mum," she said, gulping as her throat began to close with guilt. The kitchen was silent but for the sounds of mugs being taken down from their hooks and teaspoons being placed on the table. Mrs Weasley watched her daughter with eyes like a hawk while Hermione traced the grains of wood in the ancient table with her fingers.

When Ginny finally sat down she was shaking from head to foot, her spoon clattering against the side of her mug as she stirred in her sugar a telltale sign to her nervousness.

"I can't believe it, my own daughter," Molly whispered, staring into her own mug as if it held all the answers in the world. "I thought I bought you up to be a better person than this."

Hermione lifted her head at these words and stared between mother and daughter, trying valiantly in her grief stricken mind to work out what was going on.

"I thought …" Ginny began.

"Oh, you mean you actually know how to do that?" Molly snapped, still not raising her voice but her tone was enough to rattle Ginny.

"Mum, please. I didn't know, I didn't realise, I just …" But Ginny couldn't finish so she just looked to Hermione instead. "If I had known you really cared that much for him, I would never have done it," she implored.

"I don't understand," Hermione said, getting an awful feeling in her chest at Ginny's words.

"My own daughter," Molly repeated sadly, looking to the ceiling. Once again Hermione darted glances between them and then it dawned.

"You told him not to come," she whispered, all colour draining from her face. "You told him I didn't need him anymore."

"Yes," Ginny breathed, looking down as tears began to splash on the bench top.

"How could you do this to me? I thought you were my friend!" she asked, her voice rising.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know," Ginny moaned, looking up at her again as she continued to cry. "Please, forgive me."

"You bitch!" Hermione cried, her hand flying out before she even realised it, connecting with Ginny's face with a sickening crack. Hermione stood from the table as Ginny reeled back from her; Molly continued to stare into her cup of tea, shaking her head sadly.

Ginny began to sob as Hermione reached into her robe pocket and cringed as the witch in front of her stood poised as if she would hex her. Ron and Harry came running back into the kitchen at the sound of raised voices and stopped dead in their tracks at the sight before them.

Hermione took one look at their shocked expressions, flicked her wand with precise movements and Apparated out of the kitchen.

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	13. Seeking

Seeking

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Charlie leant back against the trunk of a tree and took a long swig from the canteen that hung around his neck. It wasn't that late into the afternoon but the sun was already beginning to set, and seeing as they were still so high up in the mountains the temperature would soon drop too. He could already feel his muscles beginning to protest about another night sleeping on a cold damp mountainside.

It had taken almost a week to herd the group back together and now the horde of Hungarian Horntails seemed content to graze on the large open field that ran by one of the many rivers across the Carpathian Mountains. The had kept the magnificent beasts going at such a gruelling pace all day that everyone deserved this moment of rest; Charlie couldn't wait to keep them moving down the mountain, but he knew not everybody had his stamina or his determined drive.

"I can't wait to get back to the reserve," Mikhail groaned as he slid his back down the tree to sit at Charlie's feet.

"I miss my bed," Adrian agreed, dropping to the ground opposite them, rummaging through his bag for what little food they had left.

"I miss my shower the most I think," Mikhail grinned, a far off look in his eyes, "I have dirt in places dirt should never get to see, it's not right,"

"We should be home by tomorrow," Charlie said, taking another sip and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Tomorrow? But that's insane. It's at least another two days journey, three if we take it easy," Adrian protested.

Mikhail gave him an incredulous look, "It cannot be done Charlie, you'll kill half the herd, if not us getting down this mountain at that pace,"

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," Charlie snorted, running a tired hand through his hair, "But its all down hill from here, it shouldn't be too hard and then we can all be home, in our own beds with proper bathroom facilities and maybe a hot meal in our bellies,"

"And you can see if your woman has returned," Mikhail added quietly, giving his friend a look that told him he knew exactly why Charlie was in such a hurry to get back.

"This has nothing to do with Hermione,"

"Of course it does, you have been pining for her since she left. If you are so anxious to get back you can leave and we will manage," Adrian said, his tone slightly disapproving. It wasn't like Charlie to act like this and everyone knew it had something to do with Hermione but nobody was quite willing to broach the subject head on.

"I can't do that to you guys,"

"You said it yourself; it's all downhill from here. If you want to leave we won't hold it against you," Adrian said more gently this time, watching as Charlie's face took on a look of concentration.

"No, I'll see this through. Besides, she probably isn't back, she could be in England for a month or more, she needs her family right now,"

"You could always go to her," Mikhail said, leaning forward to pluck the piece of half eaten stale bread from Adrian's hand and tearing a piece off for himself.

"No, she doesn't need me. She is sorting things out over there and then she is coming back," He said, repeating the same thing he had been telling himself for days.

"If you say so," Adrian said, getting up off the ground, dusting off his pants and walking away. Mikhail gave him and odd look before following the other man, leaving Charlie alone.

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Hermione closed her eyes and Apparated to the first place she could think of, home. She landed in her childhood bedroom with a gasp, her knees almost buckling. It was dark, even in the hallway outside her open door she could make out no sign of life.

"Hello?" she called, her voice almost cracking with the tears she couldn't seem to stop again. There was no answer and she realised how stupid it was expecting one, her mother was staying at her Grandmothers house, there was nobody home.

Biting her lip she walked from her room and across the landing toward her parent's bedroom, determined to leave some kind of sign for her mother to tell her she had gone but she hadn't forgotten about her. Entering the dark master bedroom she flicked on a light switch and came to an abrupt halt.

The room was a shambles; clothes, photos and personal belongings strewn from one end to the other. It looked like the place had been robbed but a quick glance behind her showed no other part of the house had been touched.

"Mum!" she cried when she spotted the older woman on the bed, curled up in a ball.

"Her-Hermione?" she stiffened in surprise, attempting to sit up, the objects surrounding her falling to the carpeted floor.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, picking her way through her parent's things to get to the bed.

"I was looking for something," her mother whispered, her hands moving through the objects, her movements erratic, like two tiny birds on the ends of her arms.

"Are you okay?" she asked her mother, noticing her black ringed eyes and puffy face.

"I'll be okay, I just needed to see it, to remember," her mother murmured, still searching around her until her hands fell on what she was looking for.

"See what?" Hermione asked, gently moving a box of her primary school report cards to the side and sitting in the vacated spot.

"This," she said, sitting up on her knees to hand her daughter an old worn photograph. It was taken at carnival, the type they held on the board walk at the near by coastal town when the weather was agreeable. The life-size cut out of a buxom woman in a red polka dot bikini and a muscular life-guard held her parents faces in the circular cut-outs, grinning at the camera.

"When was this?" Hermione asked, feeling something taped to the back and flipping it over to see.

"Our first date, your father took me to the carnival on the most perfect summers night. We must have ridden the Ferris Wheel a dozen times," she sniffed.

Hermione looked at the plastic mood ring taped to the back of the picture.

"He won that for me, and then pretended to propose. At the time it was a bit of fun, I never would have guessed he would propose again a year later, using the same ring," her mother explained, her voice cracking with tears, "I thought I had lost it, but he kept it all along, in his sock draw,"

"That's where he kept all his important things," Hermione whispered, feeling her tears gather with grief.

"I miss him so much,"

"Me too, I still can't believe he is gone," and that's when the tears began again and they wept in each others arms.

* * *

Three hours later the sun had well and truly set and they could not go on any longer.

"Charlie, we have to stop!" Adrian called from high above on his broom, looking like he was about to fall off from fatigue at any moment.

"Just another half hour and we will be at a better spot!" Charlie called over the din of thousands of feet moving over the underbrush.

"No, now you stupid Englishman, or we will all die from your mistakes!" Mikhail spat before swearing and dropping his broom to the ground, refusing to go on.

The rehabilitation specialists watch the exchange wearily, coming to a stop as well. They were not about to argue with the people who had saved not only the herd but their jobs.

"Fine, we will stop!" Charlie shouted, stomping over to the nearest copse of trees and dumping his gear in a pile. He was angrily collecting kindling for firewood when the other two Tamers dropped by his side.

"Seriously Charlie, you need to get a grip on yourself," Adrian said, gathering the wood into a pile and setting it alight with his wand.

"Thanks for the advice," Charlie replied sarcastically, rummaging through his bag until he found some stale flat bread, sitting back a distance from the other two to tear at it moodily.

"I said it earlier and I am saying it again now, if you want to go, go. You aren't helping anyone, even yourself, by taking out your frustration about the situation with Hermione on this mission," Adrian practically shouted.

"That's not what I am doing; I am here to help," Charlie griped, throwing a piece of his bread in the fire and watching as it shrivelled and went up in flames.

"Bullshit, the moment you found out she didn't need you, you threw yourself into this. We would have managed, albeit a little more slowly, but we would have got back eventually,"

"I have to agree, we needed you at the beginning Charlie, I am not saying you weren't a huge help, but we can take it from here if you have other things to deal with. There is no use killing us and a couple of hundred dragons because you aren't getting laid," Mikhail added.

Adrian suppressed a snort at the last part and Charlie threw the last of his food at Mikhail's head, but a slow grin formed on his face none the less. The tension shifted a little and Charlie's demeanour changed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"We know, you can make it up to us by sharing some of that food your mum sends over," Adrian grinned, settling back against a tree trunk.

"It is a shame your mother is so happily married, I would gladly sell my soul to be with her and those magical cooking fingers," Mikhail said with a dreamy sigh.

"I never want to hear you speak about a part of my mothers body the way you did just then," Charlie said with a disgusted look while Adrian fell to his side laughing.

"Your father is one lucky lucky man my friend," Mikhail said, his laughter adding to the mix.

"Oh please, don't make me throw up what little I have eaten today," Charlie pretended to gag. He stood up and pulled his filthy shirt over his head, "I'm going to leave you two here to fantasize about my mother while I go and drown myself in the lake we passed before,"

His companion's laughter followed him for a short distance until the sound of their mirth was drowned out by the oppressive wall of forest trees. It was a short walk to the small body of water, surrounded by thick mud and dead twigs and protected by a canopy of tall trees making the entire area quite secluded.

Hanging his towel and remaining clothing over a low hanging branch, he took a deep breath before running headlong at the frigid water. He emerged spluttering, wiping his hair from his eyes and re-orienting himself with a shake of his head. He swam several laps back and forth, slowly becoming used to the temperature, letting the clean water purify his skin and calm his mind.

It was on his sixth lap across that he realized he was not alone. It was at first a small shimmer out of the corner of his eye, but after several more strokes he realised that an opaque otter was frolicking by his side. He let his weight drop immediately and tried not to cry out in alarm. He was more than aware of ghostly visits, but never from an animal.

"_Charlie, I need you__. Please,"_ Hermione's voice echoed from the depths of the creature and Charlie stopped thrashing for a moment to look at it as if it was about to grow an extra two heads.

"What did you say?" he asked again. The creature executed a perfect summersault before stopping to look him in the eye.

"_Charlie, I need you. P__lease,"_ the otter repeated, sounding so forlorn he felt his heart wrench. He stared at Hermione's patronus for a long moment before making up his mind. The sound of Aparation filled the space and he was gone.

* * *

Hermione woke up, feeling stiff and disoriented. The cold sweat caused by her most recent nightmare made her whole body shiver in the dark. Her mother still slept peacefully beside her, she was the complete opposite of her late husband, who used to wake at the slightest noise.

Hermione stared at her for a moment, blinking in confusion before remembering why she had come home in the first place.

"Mum, mum wake up," Hermione whispered, shaking the older woman's shoulder.

"What is it?" came the groggy response.

"I have to go back to Romania," she responded.

"I wondered how long it would take before you couldn't be without him," this comment was mumbled into the pillow.

"What?" she wasn't sure she caught just what was said.

"It was the same before with your father and me. I couldn't bear to be away from him. Its how I knew I was in love," the widow sighed, opening an eye to look at her daughter meaningfully.

"Oh mum," Hermione whispered.

"Go; write, visit and you make sure I am the first to know when he proposes,"

Hermione smiled at this and pulled herself from the bed, tripping lightly on the junk pile at her feet before gaining balance.

"I love you," she said, raising her wand.

"Me too." With that Hermione apparated directly to the international floo network.

The young witch at the desk was eager to help the moment Hermione produced a bag of galleons so heavy it took two house elves to cart away. A network was cleared and her journey back to Romania was twice as quick as her journey to England the week before.

She practically fell into Charlie's living room, once again finding everything how it had been the last time she looked.

"Hello? Charlie?" she called, lighting the tip of her wand and looking from room to room. He wasn't anywhere to be found but she refused to be worried. She wondered if he was watching over Sheba and her egg like they had done so many nights together.

She summoned her Patronus, gave her directions and sent it into the night. If Charlie wasn't in the tree house at least he would know she was looking for him. Settling on the couch she decided to wait.

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_Please Review!_


	14. Reunited

_AN: I bow down to my new beta __**BrokenAngel901**__ and in true Wayne's World style I now will chant that I am so not worthy. Special thanks to each and every one of you who favourite, alerted and reviewed this, I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it! Please check out my profile for all updates and future stories!  


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Reunited

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Hermione jumped a foot into the air when the loud crack of thunder sounded from the bedroom. She surged to her feet and practically flew to the door, swinging on around the door jamwall to get inside.

"Charlie," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears when she caught sight of him.

The Dragon Tamer straightened up from where he was frantically throwing clothes into a bag, droplets of water falling from his hair into his eyes, causing him to blink rapidbidly at her for a moment before he launched himself across the room and into her arms.

She sobbed as his familiar warmth enveloped her. His touch was comforting and exactly what her body had been craving, she clung to him, trying to make the last week go away.

He backed her up against the wall, constantly whispering endearments in her ear as she sobbed against his shoulder. The softly spoken words only made her cry harder and only his lips suddenly covering hers silenced her.

She moaned and clutched him to her body, her nails biting into his naked shoulders as his mouth took possession of hers and her head hit the wall with a dull thud. She seemed to neither care, nor notice, instead she clutched his head to hers firmly and kissed him back with equal passion.

It was possibly the single most satisfying kiss of her life, his tongue making broad sweeps of her mouth, his lips constantly manipulating and shaping her own, his body, pressed so intimately against every curve, moving to the rhythm of the kiss and driving her to madness at the same time.

Their hearts pounded together, when he moaned so did she did and soon she was so lost to the very feel of him she didn't even notice when his hands began to tug impatiently at her robes. Somewhere she heard something tear and she was aware of him moving his hands over her body, ridding her of her clothes in under a minute.

A sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room when he pressed his naked flesh against hers. His skin was slightly damp and bordering on cold, but she could feel the familiar burning heat beginning to rise between them. Charlie muttered something incoherent and reached down to grip behind her thighs, nibbing on her neck as he at the same time as positioneding himself between her legs.

Her loud moan echoed throughout the room when he surged forward into her. He grunted and pushed her back into the wall. She helplessly wrapped her legs around his waist and gasped as his length stretched and pulsed inside her. The pleasure bordered on pain as her brain registered that her body was nowhere near ready for this kind of invasion; that everything had happened so quickly.

"Charlie, stop." she gasped, as he made to pull back with full intentions of slamming back into her. He stopped mid-movement, pulled his head from the crook of her neck and stared into her watery eyes. She bit her lip when she saw the guilt and almost brief moment of fear flash across his eyes, as he too realised he was hurting her.

"Oh fuck, Hermione, I'm sorry," he whispered, frantically pulling back, gently guiding her legs back to the floor.

"It's okay, it was just too fast," she explained quickly, feeling him pull back even further. She hurriedly grabbed his hands when he made to step from her, bringing them up to her face, "It's okay Charlie."

"I got carried away, and. I just missed you so much. I'm so sorry." He whispered, leaninged in again to kiss her, this time much more slowly.

"It's okay. I'm okay," she whispered back between kisses. "I missed you too."

His hands found her lower back again. This time he slowly backed her toward the bed and when her legs hit the edge she sat down with a sigh. Charlie knelt between her legs and kissed the inside of her thigh before moving up to kiss her mouth again, his hands slowly caressing her hips.

She felt her body heat warm at the sheer perfection of his touch, feeling every sensation she had lost in the last fortnight rushed back to her. She shivered in anticipation as his wandering fingers made slow circles from her hips to her belly and onto her thighs. When he touched her centre she moaned into his mouth and arched her back up into him.

He smiled against her mouth as his fingers expertly manipulated her sensitive flesh, drawing familiar patterns that had her gasping and cursing into his mouth, making her desperate for more contact. When he finally settled between her legs again she was more than ready for him, her hands coaxinged him forward as she kissed him in earnest.

She cried out in pleasure as he entered her for the second time, he paused for a second and glanced up at her face, but the look of sheer pleasure she gave him soon had him moving again. They as moved one, gasping and moaning until their voices rose high into the ceiling and Hermione let out one broken cry of completion.

Charlie held her still against him as her body convulsed and shuddered, letting the waves of her pleasure push him over the edge. Hermione felt him tense and groan above her, her body clenching again at the erotic sight of her lover finding his release.

"Hermione?" he asked after an extended length of silence.

"Yes?" she hummed murmured contently, in content, snuggling further back into his arms.

"Did you really miss me?" he asked.

"More than you could ever know. That's why I had to come back so quickly,"

"You should have asked me to come. I would have been there for you," he said, not knowing how much his words hurt.

Hermione thought about telling him about Ginny. There was no good that would come out of telling him the truth. He would be unnecessarily hurt and she would do anything to protect him. Ginny had apologised, Ginny had recognised she had done the wrong thing and if the look on Mrs Weasley's face was anything to go by, Ginny would be paying for her actions for a very long time..

"What's done is done, but I'm back now," she whispered instead, vowing to tell her lover when the time was right.

"I think this little separation has been good for us," he murmured a moment later, turning her in his arms so he was smiling down at her.

"You do?" she asked, raising her eyebrowsshe raised her eyebrows,, "Because all it bought me was misery and pain. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"That's what I mean. Being away from you has made me realise just how much I need you in my life," he explained gently,his voice was soft and warm, "I love you Hermione."

She blinked at him for a few moments, feeling her lip tremble and tears once again well in her eyes., Charlie was exactly what she had needed from the beginning., "I love you too," she whispered back, leaning in to kiss him gently, letting him roll her onto her back again.

"You know, when you first stepped in my door a few months ago, I never saw any of this happening. Thanks to you, so much has changed, _is_ changing in fact," he said with awe, kissing her face and neck and shoulders with unhurried languor.

"For the better I hope," she smiled.

"Of course," he replied, kissing her lips with the same heat he had shown her earlier. This time she was more than ready for him.

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It was early morning when Hermione finally roused, having had from the most undisturbed and peaceful sleep she had experienced in weeks. It took her several moments to register that it was still too early for her to be waking up on her own and that a loud rumbling noise had disturbed her slumber.

Charlie was awake too, looking around the room in confusion before comprehension dawned on his face and he jumped from the bed.

"Quick! get dressed!" he told her, his voice still rough from sleep as he pulled a pair of jeans from the half packed back on the floor and tugged them on over his naked hips.

Caught up by his enthusiasm, Hermione got out of bed quickly and moved to the corner of the room where her clothes still sat in a rumpled pile by the wall. She tugged on her jeans and didn't bother with a bra as she slipped her loose t-shirt over her head.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"They're here!" Charlie beamed at her, and seeing she was dressed, he grabbed her hand and tugged her out the front door.

"Who's ...?" she began to ask when. Then she saw them.

Slowly working their way through the trees in almost rows of two was the horde of Hungarian Horntails.

"They're here?" she whispered, "How?"

"All thanks to you. The move was done a month early. I was out helping in the mountains when you called me," Charlie explained, practically bouncing with excitement as he wound the coil of rope and chains around his shoulder, preparing to help the rest of the Tamers who had jumped from their beds at the commotion. Delighted shouts of welcome and excitement could be heard from one end of the reserve to the other as dust filled the area and the pre-dawn morning heated lit up with sporadic bursts of flame.

"We really did it," she said in awe, dragging her eyes away from the horde to stare at her lover, her face breaking out in a matching smile.

"We really did," he agreed, stopping his preparations to pull her into a tight hug, kissing her again with heated passion, infused with excitement.

"Oi, Charlie! We thought you were drowned, instead we find you here shagging Granger!" Adrian called, racing from one end of the reserve to the other at the sight of his red headed friend.

"Sorry about that," Charlie said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed by his neglectful act.

"So that's why you were naked!" Hermione announced, putting two and two together. The two men looked at her and burst out laughing. Hermione blushed but nobody seemed to notice.

"Come on you lot! These beasts aren't going to settle themselves!" They heard Phillip call from deep within the moving masses of scales.

"You ready?" Charlie asked, taking her hand and stepping off the porch.

"Always," she grinned and followed out. Hermione couldn't help thinking that in that moment she would have followed him anywhere, she was just that in love with the Dragon Tamer.

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**The End**


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